More Bleach x Tokyo Ghoul au

More Characters

Orihime

Orihime is a natural one-eyed ghoul with a Rinkaku kagune. Orihime in cannon has basically one offensive ability that is broken for a whole arc and then rarely used for the sake of defense and healing. Personally, I thought she could have done more so I’m fixing this myself. Her kagune has 2 tentacles that she can use for offensive. Her Shun Shun Rika will be for the healing and shield, the attacking fairy will not be used often unless she needs a long ranged attack.

The reason for her being a one-eyed ghoul is so she could still eat human food. Her weird food combinations are a part of her character and I thought it wouldn’t be right to take that from her. It also doesn’t hurt that Orihime constantly eating food is a good cover for when the ghoul group hangs out at school. The fact that her brother was a human makes for an interesting dynamic as well.

As a half ghoul she can eat human food as much as she wants. The genetic combination may have messed with her taste buds, resulting in the strange food. She can taste it but the human food gives her almost no nutritional value. She has to eat like a ghoul in order to sustain herself.

Her main ability is in her regeneration, which is high even for a Rinkaku. Even though her kagune is fairly weak and easy to cut off, they grow back very quickly. This also applies to any injuries she takes; for example getting completely flattened by a speeding car will only take her a few hours to completely regenerate from; as long as she’s feed.

Her father was a ghoul and her mother was a human. Her mother left Sora’s father, who was a human, for Orihime’s father, a ghoul. Sora and Orihime were half siblings. After her father was killed by the CCG and her mother became an alcoholic, Sora took her and moved to Karakura. Sora at first feed her dead homeless people who he would find until he was approached by Isshin and the other adult ghouls in town who took that responsibility out of his hands. After Sora’s death, Orihime became very close to the Ishida and Kurosaki families. The fathers would make sure she was feed and the kids would make sure she wasn’t lonely.

Uryu

Uryu is an Ukaku type ghoul. His kagune is used in tandem with his quincy arrows for more projectiles and the speed boast is helpful for him to avoid attacks. Since Ryuken is still unhelpful with training him as a quincy, he at least trains Uryu as a ghoul. They still have a horrible relationship but at least they see each other now.

Since all the ghouls in town are relatively close, he is well aware that he and the Kurosaki kids are basically cousins. (Are they really though cause the relations between Masaki and Ryuken have always confused me? No matter, cousins is close enough) Mostly Yuzu (Karin absolutely does not admit to helping), convinces Uryu to visit the Kurosaki household every once in a while. Yuzu calls him cousin, Karin does when she’s happy and Ichigo only calls him that when he needs Uryu to listen to him. Isshin tries to make Uryu call him Uncle but Uryu has picked up some things from Ichigo and smacks him around when he’s being annoying; he will call Isshin uncle on special occasions though.

Due to how tight knit the ghouls in town are, Uryu is friends with the Karakura teens long before the story begins. Him, Ichigo, Orihime, and Chad sit on the roof during lunch at school. He tolerates the presence of Tatsuki and Keigo but finds them both annoying.

Once Uryu learns how to sew, he becomes the mask maker in town. Considering the small ghoul population he doesn’t have to make or fix masks that often but he does get annoyed when someone tells him they broke the mask. (All the individual masks will be another post, mainly because some still haven’t been decided)

Ryuken

Like his son, Ryuken is an Ukaku type ghoul. He still despises being “the Last Quincy” but accepts that he is a ghoul. He makes sure Uryu is prepared for the hostile world against ghouls but otherwise is still distant. Later trains Yuzu in Quincy abilities but only because Masaki asked him to before her death. He later passes this on to Uryu because he is not the best teacher.

Since he works at the hospital he needed a way to keep his kakugan from activating. Through the efforts of both him and Isshin, they annoyed Urahara so much that he made them an oral medication that prevents the kakugan from activating for a time. This is why the fathers can both work in hospitals and smell blood without people suspecting them. After all no one is going to suspect a ghoul is working at a hospital.

He provides the ghouls main source of food. When a body is in the morgue of his hospital, he contacts Urahara who replaces it with a cheap inflatable Gigai. This Gigai lasts just long enough for the funeral so the stolen bodies are never discovered. He first makes sure Uryu is feed, then Orihime and then gives the rest to the Kurosaki’s. If not enough dead bodies come in for the month then Isshin leaves town and hunts while telling others he’s at a medical conference.

Ryuken’s ghoul identity is “Plague Doctor” due to his mask. He is the second ghoul being suspected of owning Karakura town. An A ranked ghoul due to his speed and projectile weapons, he is SS ranked when working with Isshin “Flame Oni”. He hates how in sync they are but tolerates it for the safely of the town.

Occasionally joins Uryu in visiting the Kurosaki’s. He only stays for a short while to talk to Isshin about whatever important things are going on, such as taking care of all the kids. Yuzu is happy her Uncle is visiting, Karin doesn’t really care and Ichigo likes to call him out on being an emotionally distant father. Uryu proceeds to tell him to shut up, sometimes leading to brawls in the living room.

Chad

Chad is a human with a Kokaku type quinque. It’s 2 gauntlets that connect through a long chain in the middle which goes over his arms and back. It makes his fullbring even stronger when using it. It was made from his abuelo’s greatest kill as a CCG Dove (a S ranked ghoul).

He carries the quinque case in a disguise bag for 2 reasons. The first is that owning a quinque outside the CCG is illegal and he won’t let anyone take his abuelo’s gift to him. The second reason is that the quinque makes his friends very uncomfortable so he disguises it out of respect for them. He uses a larger version of his high school bag to disguise it and carries it or uses the straps to wear it like a backpack.

When he moved to Karakura he saw Ichigo in the original thug beat down at the bridge. After that day, Chad was attacked by a passing ghoul who thought he looked tasty (Ichigo was preoccupied in a store). Chad got out his quinque despite never being thought how to use it but was loosing and had heavy wounds from his enemies kagune. Ichigo came back to the sounds of fighting and attacked the ghoul with his kagune. After the fight Ichigo only then realized Chad had a quinque and froze in place out of panic. Chad put the weapons away and limped over to Ichigo to help clean the blood off him. Chad really didn’t care that his friend was a ghoul, especially since said friend just saved his life.

Ichigo took Chad home and after getting patched up by Isshin, Chad became an honorary member of the ghouls. He joined them for monthly training considering he had no idea how to use his quinque and the adults would not have this rarely kind human die. He got a mask so he could use his quinque and not get recognized. He also has a costume that covers most of his body considering a half-Mexican and half-Japanese man is very easy to recognize, especially outside of a big city.

He is just the best ghoul ally. He is a very quiet individual but he will not stay silent when someone (mainly Tatsuki) is insulting ghouls in front of him or his friends. For a man of few words his words can sure pack a punch.

Tatsuki

Tatsuki is a human and doesn’t have the best image of ghouls. After Masaki’s death and Isshin being lost in his grief, a ghoul came into town and killed Tatsuki’s father. Ryuken “took care of” the offender and was the reason Isshin got off his ass.

Since beginning high school, Tatsuki has been in a CCG program over the weekends. She adds on to her pre-existing martial arts skills and is working her way up to learning quinque combat. Her quinque would be a bikaku that is a serrated edge sword and can stretch into a whip when needed. The whip is used to hold ghouls in place as the hooked spikes cause more damage when being taken out.

Tatsuki is still friends with Orihime and Ichigo. Orihime is her best friend and they share dinner quite often. When Tatsuki starts with the ghoul hate speech, Ichigo tells her to talk about something else or he’s leaving. Orihime kinds shuts down and starts doing something else to distract herself. Tatsuki is so caught up in her rage and grief that she normally doesn’t notice when Orihime does this. She gets frustrated with Ichigo but doesn’t stay mad at him.

Urahara

Urahara is a “human” with a vast knowledge of ghouls. He is the reason the CCG ignores Karakura for as long as it does. He hacks into the data base whenever something that might be important occurs (someone having to use their kagune and there’s a security camera nearby) and deletes the data. The CCG eventually figured out that someone is wiping the data and sends Doves to investigate the town. But that’s a whole other story arc.

Jinta and Ururu are failed half ghoul experiments that he may or may not have liberated from the CCG as kids. At first he took them to examine their DNA but he grew to love them. The weird genetics has taken a toll on the kid’s bodies; Jinta needs hearing aids and Ururu wears glasses. Urahara however does him best to keep the kids healthy.

As a man of science, he has taken the liberty of getting DNA samples of all the ghouls in town as the data on ghouls is limited to the CCG’s propaganda. He may or may not want to make his own half ghoul some day (or do it to himself); all in the name of science.

His shop sells all sorts of items that the ghouls may need. It is also the place where the ghouls have their monthly meetings. Most of the kids are suspicious of Urahara since he is clearly “human”. Ryuken and Isshin trust him though so that’s good enough for the kids, at least for now.

So Rose's career:

I always imagined Rose as very much being a Gifted Child like her mother. Unlike her mother, however, she doesn't have the same passion for academics or learning. Oh, she cares about her grades and is quite competitive over them, but she's not going to spend weeks studying in advance for an exam or pouring over library books when she doesn't have to. (The way I kind of picture it is: Hermione will get an assignment then go through many many books that cover the topic and then write like three extra pages answering the prompt and adding in a bunch of other info. Rose will get the assignment, check the rubric, and then draft her essay to make sure that she hits everything on the rubric. It's well, thought out, but within the page limit and uses two sources instead of Hermione's seven. They both get O's.)

So Rose is plenty competent in a lot of subjects, but doesn't really have anything that particularly calls to her or that she's passionate about. (Unlike Hugo who's had a facination with muggle things and how they interact with magic since he was a kid. Hugo is very much a scientist and researcher and even went and got himself a PhD and loves his area of research. His biggest concern is that this area of study is practically nonexistant. In Europe, there's like four other people covering this vast topic, and he only likes two of them: a muggle-born witch who graduated from Beauxbaton and her muggle brother who spends half his time cursing wizarding research practices. How is he supposed to get his papers peer-reviewed if he has no peers?? But I'll stop talking about Hugo because this is about Rose.) When the time comes for Rose to choose a career, she has no idea what to do. She has various options that she could potentially be good at, but there's nothing that catches her eye. She ends up taking a variety of NEWT level classes to see if she finds anything. She does enjoy transfiguration more than the others, but doesn't know what to do with it and when someone suggests being a transfiguration professor, she laughs.

This is actually a super stressful time for her. She's genuinely terrified she'll find nothing that she's passionate about. Ron reassures her that no matter what she picks, she can always change her mind later on. After all, he spent years in the aurors before he found something else he enjoyed more. (Rose nods along to this, but worries that she'll be stuck in an infinite loop of job after job that she hates.) Eventually, she ends up taking an entry-level position at the ministry that her mother had told her about. It has a decent salary and could lead to a good career.

Hermione is over the moon that her baby is following in her steps. She tries to hide just how excited she is, but she secretly maps out her entire career in her mind. Her Rosie is super intelligent and talented and could end up leading any department she wanted. Her and her baby bringing an era of political change to the wizarding world? Yes, please. She will teach her all the Politics. She makes an effort to have lunch with her as often as she can and introduces her to everyone and is always like "how was your day? Did you make any new friends? Is there anything you need clarification on? Please tell me if you need anything". She has all the best intentions. But like... Rose is very much not excited about this. And she stays at the ministry for months after she had wanted to quit because she knows her mum is excited to have her there.

So this is the part where it gets super specific and I pretty much pulled a career for her out of my ass: at some point, and I haven't planned out how this happens exactly, but Rose stumbles upon a particular opportunity within a very difficult area of transfiguration, which let's call Animation as I have no other name for it right now. So imagine if we put on a play about Toy Story. Now imagine if instead of using actors, we used the actual toys. And recreated the entire movie, but using magic to bring the toys to life (... like, not actually bringing them to life. But like, puppets to the extreme. You get my point. I mean, I know they don't have movies and stuff, but they have magic. They need other entertainment other than Quidditch. And plays using all inanimate objects is my solution. They probs adopted it from muggles at some point. ANYWAY.)

So Rose, who's discovered this apprenticeship and is growing tired of her job at the ministry that she doesn't find stimulating in the slightest, decides to quit and take the apprenticeship... which is kind of the equivalent of dropping out of college to join a band. Hermione is not amused. A huge fight ensues, the biggest fight between Hermione and Rose thus far, with Hermione telling her to reconsider and that she's making a mistake and that she's jeopardizing her future. And Rose is screaming back that she can't control her life. Even Ron (after the fight and trying to calm them both down) is like "are you sure? But are you sure?" Like I said, this is a very difficult art, and very few people succeed, and unless you succeed, you will not be making a lot of money. (Ron very much does not want either of his kids struggling with money like he did). Rose dismisses their concerns. The tension between Rose and her mum is palpable for weeks afterwards.

Now Rose very much loves her new apprenticeship. As she sees what others can do and the beauty of the art and the talent behind every move makes her fall in love with it all. BUT. Here's the thing: it's a very, very difficult field of magic. She knew this, of course. In the same way she knew that getting ten OWLS was difficult, but she did it anyway (with only some effort). For the first time in her life, she struggles at simply being adequate, let alone excellent. She stays up for hours every night practicing, sometimes with little results. And after months of this, and one too many nights of crying because she's falling behind, she talks to her dad and tells him she wants to quit. That she made a mistake. That she wanted her ministry internship back, or a temporary job at the shop, or anything else really. Ron, who hates seeing his daughter struggling, agrees. (He's a little hesitant, but is like "well, if you really, really hate it")

So Rose tells Hermione that she's quitting and that she wants the job back if it's still available to her. And Hermione says no. She's not getting the internship back. Or the job at the shop. Or anything else. And she's not quitting her apprenticeship either. She's seen the way Rose's eyes light up when she talks about what she's learning. And the concentration on her face when she's practicing. And the way she looks on in awe whenever she's taken her parents to some of the shows. And she's not going to let Rose give up on doing the thing she loves.

(After some years of her apprenticeship and then trying to get her name known, Rose does indeed become super successful.)

(Meanwhile Hugo is like, a nanosecond away from breaking the statute of liberty to get some decent research funding)

The Good Old Days Chapter Nine:  Beauty and the Streets

A/N:  Hi, friends!  Look.  I’m just going to come out and say this now.  This is my favorite chapter title so far.  I don’t know why, but I love it so much.  So, reward my hard ass work with some validation.  Not to sound desperate, but fuuuuuuck.  Anyway, you know where I’ll be if you need me, k? x

ICYMI:  Chapter Eight:  The Power of Observation

I had a feeling deep in my bones that the training I’d have to go through in order to take over for the Old Man someday would be extensive.  There was bound to be parts of said training I wasn’t going to be all that big of a fan.  Being holed up in a dressing room of some ritzy ass department store?  Definitely securing a cozy spot in the top five.  I could feel the weird looks the second I walked in.  What the hell is a piece of shit like me doing in a place like this?  Am I the Old Man’s charity case?  Am I his sugar baby?  Are we even in here together?  Am I lost? At least with the door closed, no one can see me.  No one can cast their unnecessary judgment.

 “Hey, Old Man…” That didn’t mean my skin crawled any less, “Is this all really necessary?”

 “Yes,” he answered flatly.

 “But…!”

 “It’s non-negotiable, Frankie,” the Old Man put his foot down, “This girl deserves a little bit of effort, don’t you think?”

 “Yeah, but…”

 “I’m not hearing it, Frankie,” he shut me up, “Take your bitching elsewhere.  It’s barely a step up from what you already got.  You make it sound like you’re being forced to sleep in a three-piece suit.”

 “Top hat and tails,” I jabbed.

 “Alright, smartass,” the Old Man let that one slide.  Gracias a dios.  I thought he would’ve handed my ass to me for something like that, “Subtlety is key with anything.  Like this. It’s not a drastic change by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s just enough of an upgrade to make a slight impact.  If you work in layers with subtlety, the world is yours.  It’s like they say with the frog in the water.”

 “I’m not following you, Old Man.”

 “If you put a frog in boiling water,” he explained, “It’ll want to jump out immediately, right? Water’s too hot.”

 “Right.”

 “But,” he added, “If you put the frog in cold water and gradually heat it, the frog has no idea it’s being boiled alive.”

 “Things aren’t working out too well for the frog,” I noticed, “I feel him.”

 “How did your mama ever put up with you, Frankie?”

 “I had two older brothers that made me look better in comparison.  I’m the fucking golden child.”

 “Just…” I heard the Old Man lean against the wall, “Anything that doesn’t look like you got into a fight with a chain link fence.  Or just escaped prison.  I don’t ask much for you.”

 “Fine,” I rolled my eyes, fully dressed again.  Nothing had a hole in it.  Nothing had been fixed.  Everything was in its original state, “There.  Better?”

 “Considerably,” he approved.  But then, a woman came up behind him.  A real beauty, too.  Damn, Old Man…

 She started getting a little closer with him.  Her arms were wrapped around his.  Damn, Old Man…I see you, “How are you doing, Gregorio?  Do you need anything?”

 “I’m wonderful, sweetheart,” the Old Man put her hands up to his lips, “Thank you.  I appreciate it, but I think we got it handled.  Ok?”

 “Ok…” the woman floated away, heavily swooning.  I didn’t get it.  I mean, the Old Man wasn’t the worst looking creature in the world, but somehow, it was more than that.  

 “And that, my dear Frankie,” he threw an arm around me, “is how that’s done.”

 “What did you just do?” I wondered, still totally fucking dumbfounded.

 “You know how I told you to work in subtlety?”

 “Yeah.”

 “That’s how you work in subtlety,” the Old Man took great pride in his work.

 “How many do you got on the hook at once?” I asked.

 “On average?” he thought it over, “Probably four or five, depending on the day.  Would you ever guess I didn’t remember her name?”

 “You don’t even remember her name?” I gasped, “Damn, Old Man.  If you don’t mind me saying this, you’re a fucking hound.”

 “I do what I can,” the Old Man shrugged.

 “So,” I assumed, “That’s why you called her sweetheart.  It makes her feel all special and warm and fuzzy inside while simultaneously saving your own ass.”

 “You’re a quick study, kid,” he smiled, “I’m proud of you.”

 “Thanks, Old Man,” I melted inside.  Just a little bit.

 “I got you taken care of,” the Old Man started pulling price tags off, “You go wait by the door, so they don’t think you’re stealing.”

 “Ok.” I wasn’t going to fight with him.  I’m pretty sure that receipt alone could pay next month’s rent.  That’s not a bill I need to see.  Chances are, I’d throw up.  This was way too fucking nice for someone like me.  I mean, I know it’s going to be me one day, but I didn’t think that one day would come this soon.  Surprises are neat.  And if I do say so myself, I look damn good…

 But none of that mattered. I was about to get the girl.  In a few short minutes, I was going to get the girl. I was going to have my second chance. Unless she stands me up or Veronica didn’t get to her in time or some bullshit like that.  Because that’s my level of cosmic luck.  I hoped to all things holy, unholy, and morally neutral that I’d be able to sit down at the Bean and see her walk in and suddenly have Sixpence None the Richer playing in the background for some ungodly reason. Because it fits.  That’s why.  

 “Hey, Frankie,” the Old Man started walking out.  I’m guessing it’s safe to follow him without setting off the alarms, “Where did you say you were taking this girl again?”

 “The Bean,” I told him, “Why?”

 “I like the Bean,” he smiled a bit, “It’s cozy, quaint, public.  Very old Williamsburg.  And if you go at the right time of the day, the people watching is excellent.”

 “That’s a little unsettling…”

 “It helps with the whole art of observation thing,” the Old Man threw the car door open, “But it’s a little late in the day for me to hit up the Bean.  Peak hours are between eight and nine.”

 “Why do you say that?” I wondered.

 “Old people and hipsters,” he giggled, “Hell of a mix.  The old people don’t know how to react to the hipsters.  The hipsters don’t know what to think of the old people.  The chaos is beautiful, kid.  Like watching art come to life.”

 “Hey, Old Man…” I could hardly sit still, “I…”

 “You’re nervous, aren’t you, Frankie?”

 I hate when he does that, “Yeah.  That obvious?”

 “To a well-trained eye,” he nodded, “What’s got you worried?”

 “What if she doesn’t show up?”

 “Then, you still got coffee today,” the Old Man settled me, “Then, you took yourself out.  It’s not a bad thing to be by yourself once in a while, Frankie.  I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of that.”

 “Not really,” I admitted. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t get much time to myself.  More often than not, I’d be with my brothers or I’d be with Mama or I’d be with someone. I was hardly ever alone.  I always thought that was a good thing.

 “Then, even if she doesn’t show up,” he assured me, “This is not all for naught.  And at the end of the day, you still need to come back to the Narrows.  I got a few places coming up on their collection dues and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not go do that.  For the plain and simple fact that I don’t want to.  That’s what I have you for.”

 “I know,” I sat and bounced my knee a little more, needing for this excess energy to go somewhere.

 “Tell you what, kid,” the Old Man put a hand on my shoulder, “If this doesn’t go over and you’re stuck here by yourself, we’ll scrap your collection job tonight and do something fun, k?”

 “Thanks, Old Man,” I smiled a bit, “I appreciate it.”

 “That’s what I’m here for,” the car pulled up to the curb.  Holy shit, that was fast, “Now, go on, Frankie.  Go make me proud.  Go get your girl.”

 “That was the plan,” I pushed myself out of the back of the Old Man’s town car and took a step toward the door.

 “Hold on!” the Old Man rolled his back window down.

 “Did you need something?” I wondered.

 “Here,” he peeled off a hundred and put it in my hand, “You don’t need to be running out of money while you’re here.”

 “Old Man…” I gasped, “I’m good.  This is a little…”

 “Nope,” the Old Man cut me off, “Don’t give me that.  Go on, kid. Go get your girl.”

 I looked back up at the Bean’s sign, but when I turned around to yell at the Old Man some more, he was already gone.  Dammit…Well…Here goes nothing.  I walked into the Bean and ordered an espresso and a chocolate chip cookie. Hopefully, the espresso will help calm my nerves a little.  Either that or it’s going to amplify them at least tenfold.  That’s the gamble I’m willing to make.  Please show up, Vanessa.  I don’t care if it’s to spit on my shoes.  I just need to see your face again.  The Old Man might be a little pissed about you spitting on brand new shoes, but I need to see that face.

 “Frankie…?” a husky, yet gentle voice came up behind me.

 Holy shit, it’s her. Yet…This was different.  I got a better look at her in the light.  Power of observation, just like the Old Man said. Slight rip in her jacket sleeve, designer bag, chai latte in her hand, and legs for days…Dios mio, “Yeah…Hi.”

 “Hi,” she smiled, glancing over at the empty seat, “Do you mind?”

 “Please,” I insisted, “Not at all.”

 “So,” Vanessa sat across from me, “I hear you met my little sister earlier this afternoon.”

 “I hear you met my oldest brother last night,” I retaliated with no intentions of getting so defensive. It’s just a default setting.  And now, I feel kind of bad.

 “I’m assuming he was your brother,” she thought, “He said his name was César and said his brother thought I was cute.”

 “Hold on,” I stopped her, “Did he specifically say Frankie or did he say Tony?”

 “He said Frankie,” she assured, “Promise.  But it wasn’t a half bad idea to use Veronica as a go-between.”

 “I wanted to ask you about that,” I told her, “What did you mean you had eyes on you last night?”

 “Just that,” Vanessa started to relax, “My sister.  Violet, not Veronica.  She’s a total fucking narc.  Veronica would take my secrets to the grave.  She knows about loyalty and solidarity between siblings.  Violet would sell me out to our mother for Costco samples.”

 “Hey…” I hushed her, “Don’t knock Costco samples.  Those are worth the membership.”

 “Sorry,” she sighed out, “Violet gets me stressed.”

 “Here,” I broke my cookie in half and handed the other half off to her, “You look like you could use this more than me.”

 “What are we, five?” Vanessa giggled.  I didn’t care about that.  All I needed was to get her to smile again.  I’d hate to see that go away.

 “So what if we are?”

 “Alright,” she gladly accepted my offer, “Frankie…There are some things about me…They’re not exactly desirable.”

 “Really?” I had a hard time believing she was into anything shady.  Considering my recent employment, I doubt she could surprise me, “Try me.”

 “My last name is Scarlotti,” Vanessa confessed, picking at the cardboard ring around her cup, “My family owns half this city.  It’s maddening.”

 “Wait,” I wondered, keeping my voice down, “Do you come from mafia?”

 “No,” she shook her head, “Nothing like that.  My family’s business is a lot more legit than that.  But it doesn’t make it any less like hell.”

 “What makes you say that?”

 “Well,” Vanessa sipped from her latte, “It’s the expectations that come along with it. It’s not so much my dad, but it’s my mother.  You’re Mommy’s perfect princess.  Her debutant. Every action you do immediately reflects on the family, Vanessa.  It’s just…It’s bullshit…And…I’m venting…I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to vent, but…I just…”

 “Vanessa,” I spoke softly, doing my best to calm her down, “It’s alright.”

 “Really?” her spiral slowed, “I’m not scaring you off or anything?”

 “Not at all,” I swore, “Trust me.  I’ve seen my fair share of hell.”

 “I know I should be grateful for the life I have,” she started working on her half of cookie, “Because it could always be worse.  That’s why Violet took me to Williamsburg last night.  She wanted me to see how much worse it could be.  But…”

 “But?” I wondered.

 “I love coming down to Williamsburg,” Vanessa smiled, “If I had my way, I’d live down here instead of the Upper East Side.  I love the little cafés and the clubs down here and…Just the pulse of the city.  It beats different down here than what it does up there.  Manhattan’s a different monster.  But something about coming down to Williamsburg…I have yet to find somewhere else in all five boroughs where I feel more comfortable than here.”

 “I know how you feel,” I gave her a nod, “I’ve lived in Williamsburg for as long as I can remember. But every once in a while, I wondered what it’d be like to live up in Manhattan.  The upper echelons.  The other half.  But at the end of the day, even if I did have the means to move uptown, I don’t think I could do it.  This is still home.  It always will be.”

 “I envy you…” she was quiet for a second, but then, she came to again, looking at me confused, “Why am I telling you all this?”

 “My mother always said I had one of those faces,” I shrugged, “Really and truly, Vanessa, it’s alright.  If you need to vent, then you need to vent.  It’s really not a problem.  Don’t worry about it.  If you want to vent, keep going.  If you want to change the subject, I totally understand.  I’ll leave it up to you.”

 “Better conversation topic please,” Vanessa decided, “Besides, I feel like all I’ve done since I sat down is ramble on about me.  I want to hear more about you.  I already know enough about me.”

 “But,” I caught a glimpse of a clock, not needing to go down the rabbit hole of my tragic backstory quite yet, “We don’t have much time together.”

 “Then…” The Old Man told me to keep an eye on someone’s hands.  What they do when they’re nervous.  Where they are.  But I suddenly found her hand in mine.  They’re…so soft, “We should make the most of the time we have together, shouldn’t we?”

 “What class are you leaving me for anyway?” I teased, hoping I didn’t cut too deep.

 “Communications,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Yay.”

 “You don’t need it,” I brushed her off, “I think you communicate just fine.  See?  And I didn’t even need a degree to tell you that.”

 “You’re cute,” she giggled a bit…That laugh…It’s fucking adorable, “As much as I’d love to believe you, I need this class.  Then, hello, graduation day…in two years.”

 “What’s your major?” I asked.

 “Law.” Holy shit, this girl’s going to be a fucking lawyer?  And she’s sniffing around me?  Oh, Vanessa, you are definitely the kind of girl that was put in my path at the right time.  That’s for damn sure, “I’m debating between going into estate planning or being a defense attorney.”

 “Why not both?” I suggested, “A girl like you.  You seem like your brain could handle it.”

 “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted, “But I only have so much in the trust fund.  I need to spend it smart.”

 “I could think of worse ways to spend it,” I figured, “Could pick up a gambling problem…Cocaine…Maybe hookers, if you were feeling particularly spicy one night.”

 “No,” Vanessa laughed some more, “I’ll stick with an education, but thank you.  Your suggestions were greatly appreciated.”

 “If you don’t mind me asking,” I wondered, “Why the hell would you want to go into estate planning?”

 “Are you kidding?” her eyes lit up, sparkling more now than when we first met, “Do you know what kind of front row seat I’d have to some of the most knockdown, drag out family drama? Some of the families my family is connected to, when they’ve had major deaths that involve big wills…Oh, they’re fucking bloodbaths.  The closest of relatives are suddenly the worst of enemies.  Someone gets written out while they’re still alive.  It is an absolute disaster.  From a purely psychological standpoint, it’s fascinating to watch.  Kind of like watching animals at the zoo.  It’s amazing what lengths some people would go through for someone else’s money or their possessions after they’re dead.  It’s so pointless, but it’s still fun to watch.”

 “You know,” I started to worry about this girl and what kind of mental state she was in. However, she had a point.  And a damn good one, “That’s kind of twisted.”

 “I know,” she bit on her lip, “But I can’t help it.  I don’t start the drama, but I sure as hell don’t mind being the occasional spectator.”

 “That’s still kind of twisted…”

 “It’s the same principle as watching a soap opera,” Vanessa shrugged unapologetic, “Only it’s real life and in front of my eyes.”

 I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t watched my fair share of Telemundo with Mama over the years, so I got it, “I like you, Vanessa…”

 “I like you, too,” her smile melted me to my very core.  I think I could keep this one around.  For a little while anyway.  But then, she caught a glimpse of her watch, “Shit…I need to be going.  I hate to run, but…”

 “It’s alright,” I let it go, “I understand.”

 “Thank you,” Vanessa got up from her seat.  

 This was it.  I needed to shoot my shot and shoot it big. This time, I’m not blowing it, “Hey, Vanessa?”

 “Hmm?” she threw her bag over her shoulder.

 “Can I call you tonight?” I asked.

 “Sure,” Vanessa allowed, “How about around nine o’clock?  I should be home.”

 “If I can get a spare minute,” I nodded, “I have to work tonight.”

 “I really hope you do,” she played with a stray lock of her hair, “Because…I’m glad I gave you a second chance.”

 “I’m glad you gave me a second chance, too,” my heart started racing.  Damn near ready to burst out of my chest.

 “It was nice meeting you, Frankie,” Vanessa waved behind her.

 “You, too…” I hated to see her go…But damn, to watch that girl leave was like a work of art.

 Vanessa…She’s definitely something.  That’s for sure.  She’s definitely got some of that debutant in her.  There’s no doubt about it.  But there’s more.  There’s so much more.  There’s a sadist…There’s a sweetheart.  There’s a caged bird begging to be set free.  And if I’m the one to do that, then so be it.  I’d be happy to.  Now that I think about it, I really and truly hated to see her go.  It’s too bad we didn’t get to spend a little more time together.  She didn’t need to be late for her class.  

 And I got to share my cookie with her.  Not to be that guy about it, but I hadn’t shared a cookie with someone since I was probably five.  Dammit, Vanessa, you were right.  Go ahead, corazón.  I won’t stop you.  Now, what to do, what to do.  Dare I go back to the Narrows?  No.  I think I should head home first.  I’m sure someone’s worried about me.  I haven’t been home all day.  And I barely left a note for Tony and César.  Besides, they needed to know about her, too.

@bosstoaster (because for some reason I can’t answer this ask???) Hell yes! I love it! So this is set at the very tail end/just after Failsafe, for reference. 
Note: There are some extremely minor spoilers for s7. Nothing plot-relevant, just names and minor background data from back on Earth, so I haven’t spoiler-tagged it. Parallel by Proxy is only canon compliant up to s4. But just as a head’s up. “Are…are you serious?” Lance asks, incredulous. “You really want me to help you with shooting?”

 Ryou blinks at him. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be serious about that? You did offer to do some sharpshooter training sessions.” “I mean, I did,” Lance admits, “But I was…I mean, I wasn’t really being serious, I didn’t think you’d really take me up on it, I was just…uh…” He looks sheepish. “Bragging? I…guess?” Ryou doesn’t really know what to make of that. Lance does brag, a lot, usually about things he shouldn’t, but shooting is one of those few areas where Lance’s bravado isn’t all bluster. He really is as good as he says he is in that department. As both Shiro and as himself, Ryou’s witnessed Lance hit marks that only experts could handle back on Earth. That was why he’d been willing to take up Lance on the offer in the first place. His new Olkari arm is very impressive, and its ranged shooting capabilities will no doubt be useful—assuming he can learn how to use them right. Nothing he remembers from being Shiro will help; Shiro has almost always preferred close combat when possible, and his own Galra prosthetic just isn’t used at range. Lance’s knowledge will be much more applicable here. “So,” Ryou says slowly, “are you saying you can’t help me with training for this?”

“No, no no no,” Lance says hastily. “I mean, I could, I’ve done it, I helped Hunk figure out his bayard better and all that. Even Keith’s asked me for a few shooting pointers,” Lance adds, with self-satisfied pride. “I just don’t get why you would need my help?” Ryou is baffled by that. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Well, I mean, you’re, y’know…Shiro-ish?” Ryou blinks. Stares. “Shiro…ish?” “Yeah,” Lance says, gesturing hastily with his hands as he tries to explain his point. “Like, you’re not Shiro anymore—or well, I guess you weren’t ever Shiro, but like, you still thought you were and you acted like him and could do all the stuff he did, and like, he’s Shiro, so why would he need shooting lessons from me? Or, uh, why would you? This is really confusing,” he finishes, exasperated. That makes two of them. “Okay, back up a second,” Ryou says, holding up his hand in a ‘stop’ motion. “We’ll ignore the fact that I’m not Shiro for the moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to get shooting lessons from you?” Lance looks incredulous all over again. “Because he’s Shiro. Shiro can already do practically everything.” Ryou’s eyebrows both raise at that. “Can he really,” he intones. That’s certainly news to him, and as Lance had pointed out in so roundabout a way, he’d been that person until very recently. “Sure,” Lance says. “He’s got all the high scores on all the simulations back at the Garrison. Youngest pilot to ever lead a mission in space. Broke over a dozen records in just a couple years. The news about his new record for fastest orbital velocity was huge!” There’s actual excitement on his face as he chatters on. Fastest orbital velocity? Ryou thinks, idly. He doesn’t remember that. Pity. Sounds like it was fun.

 “Shiro’s like, the whole reason I even joined the Garrison to be a pilot in the first place,” Lance finishes. “I wanted to be able to do cool things like that. If I could do even a fraction of that stuff I’d be happy.” Then he looks sheepish. “Uh, but you probably know about all that stuff already, ‘cause, y’know…Shiro-ish. Now I feel kinda dumb for rambling about it. To you. This is weird.” “I only remember maybe half of it well,” Ryou says, waving that aside. “And I promise I won’t tell Shiro, if that makes you feel better. You’re fine.” 

Lance’e expression is a mix of still sheepish, and also grateful. “Thanks.”

 “I still don’t see why that means he couldn’t learn shooting from you, though,” Ryou continues. “I’m betting none of those records he broke were for marksmanship.” Certainly none of the ones he remembers were. “No,” Lance admits, “But he always seems to know what to do, and he was still top class back at the Garrison, and he’s awesome at fighting, so I figured…” You’ve got a little bit of hero worship, Ryou notes with amusement, although he’s careful not to let it show on his face. That hadn’t been uncommon with cadets, from what memories he still has from Shiro’s time back on Earth. Shiro was charismatic, and an inspiration to a lot of the younger generation; the Garrison had often used him for PR and for teaching classes of new cadets in between missions for exactly that reason. Ryou remembers standing in front of more than a few classrooms full of starry-eyed students or cadets excited at the prospect of meeting him. “Shiro is proficient with firearms,” Ryou says. “Enough to pass basic training. But it’s not a skill he’s ever really worked on improving.” Lance seems to consider this for a moment, before finally saying, “Huh.” He doesn’t seem terribly disillusioned, so Ryou figures at least a little of that old hero-worship has toned down since becoming a paladin. Probably because he’s just gotten to know Shiro as a person, and not a far-off elevated figure in news bytes and record books.
 “For that matter,” Ryou continues, “I’m not Shiro at all, so even that doesn’t apply to me. I only remember parts of Shiro’s basic training, and that’s not enough to put me in a real combat scenario. Plus, being sick wiped most of my muscle memory for things like this. Even if I had perfect recall of Shiro’s firearm training, this body doesn’t remember how to do that anymore.” 

Lance winces at that. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

 Ryou shakes his head. “Nothing to apologize for. Point is, I need to re-learn how to shoot from square one, like I’m a fresh cadet. And out of everyone on the crew, you’re the one with the most firearm experience and the highest skill level with shooting. So I want you to start teaching me from the beginning—if you’re willing to, of course.” Lance stares at him. “I mean, of course I’m willing! But…from the beginning? Really?” “I’m dead serious,” Ryou says, very firmly. “I need to get it right the first time. There’s no room for mistakes because I assume I can do something and it turns out I can’t. I’ve been doing the same thing with Shiro, Keith and Allura learning hand to hand combat again—started with basic exercises and beginner katas. I need to approach this the same way.” “I guess that makes sense,” Lance admits. “Still must suck, though. After putting in all that work and effort before, I’d hate to get kicked down to starting over from scratch.” “It is what it is,” Ryou says neutrally, although inwardly he completely agrees. It’s frustrating to have Shiro running him through novice-level drills just to get his body used to moving properly for a fight, and then immediately watching Shiro take down a Gladiator with advanced skills he knows he used to know. He feels stupid sometimes, when Keith gives him tips on combat maneuvers and still manages to knock him on his ass during careful sparring practice, even though part of his brain still remembers being the one doing the teaching. He gets flustered when he mixes up Altean youur-jun with Earth martial arts styles, and Allura has to correct him time and time again when his arms and legs just don’t feel like cooperating. He remembers being so good at this. It’s almost more painful on his pride than his body to have to start over again. But for all that, he knows he’ll get there eventually. He has faded memories of Shiro first learning these things too, and he’d been just as frustrated back then. And really, Ryou is learning for the first time how to do all of this, just like Shiro all those years ago. His body had been conditioned for him, the last time. This time, as Shiro pointed out to him when he was learning to walk again, this will be all his victory when he gets there. He just has to work his way to that victory from the ground up. “So, the basics,” Ryou repeats. “Start from scratch and build some good habits. Then hopefully I can support the team without accidentally killing anybody.” “Yeah,” Lance says. “Friendly fire isn’t really all that friendly. Okay, let’s head to the training deck then.” He scratches his head as he stares at Ryou’s Olkari hand, and adds, “Although, I don’t think you’ll need all the basics. I guess we don’t really have to worry about proper grip or how to pull the trigger right…” 

 Ryou chuckles a little at that as he leads the way towards the training deck. “Alright, fair. All the basics, within reason. And I imagine we’ll have to still be inventive with some of it.” “Yeah, I don’t think this is what they had in mind with handgun training,” Lance says, grinning widely as he follows. Ryou snorts. “That was terrible.” “You laughed!” “I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t encourage you. That was a moment of weakness.” Lance is still grinning at that, but moves on. “There’s other stuff we can work on, though. Stance and movement are still important. We’ll need a trick for aiming, unless you want to strap a scope to your wrist—“ “I think people might notice that.” “Probably,” Lance agrees. “And what’s the range on that thing, anyway?” “It shoots pretty far,” Ryou says. “I played around with it a little at the Olkari armory. The blasts can vary in strength, too.”

 “We should probably figure out that too, then,” Lance says. “I had to play around with my bayard a little for the same reason, since it can swap between standard and sniper rifle modes, and the shot strength can vary too. It’s not like swapping guns with different rounds at all.” He shrugs. “But if I can figure it out, you definitely can.” 

Ryou raises an eyebrow at that. Lance says it calmly, but it had edged a little too close to self-deprecating for Ryou’s tastes. “As I recall,” he says mildly, “you’re the team sharpshooter. If anyone’s an expert at this it’s you. I’m the novice by comparison. But I’m sure you’ll be an excellent teacher.” 

Lance can’t seem to help but preen a little at that. “Well,” he says, a little more confidently, “I guess Shiro did say I was the sharpshooter. Maybe you’re right.” 
Lance knows his way around the firearm drills in the training deck well, and gets them set up in the room with holographic targets. “Non-moving targets for now,” Lance says. “At least until we know what you can do and you get used to the basics. And…what can you do? I’ve never seen this thing in action.” “I guess a demonstration is in order, then,” Ryou says. He concentrates on lighting up—it’s becoming more and more second nature, with practice. It still fills him with a little thrill of excitement to watch the leaf-vein pale green patterns crawl up from his fingertips to his elbow, and to watch the pale green energy start to coalesce in his fist as the weapon charges. Even now, quintents later, it’s still exhilarating to feel and to watch.

 After a few ticks he’s pretty sure the weapon is done charging, and he releases that energy and fires a blast at the far wall, where the holographic targets are set up. He misses the target by a little less than a foot, and the blast disintegrates against the reinforced far wall of the training deck. “Wow,” Lance says. “That’s pretty cool! That thing packs a lot of power. That’s more like a small cannon blast than a rifle.” “I can reduce the amount of charge in it too,” Ryou says. “Make it a little less powerful, if needed.”

 “We’ll have to practice that,” Lance says. “But that’s also a pretty big blast. The size of your fist at least. That’s more like Hunk’s bayard. Can you reduce the size of it? Like…” He gestures, putting his right fist in his left palm, and pointing it like a gun. “Pow, pow, pow!” “I hadn’t thought of that,” Ryou admits, giving it a try. 

Firing with just one finger is difficult—it can’t gather much power by itself, so pointing at the targets in the distance and shooting creates a thin beam of pale green that barely makes an impact. It might work for distraction, but not much else. Two fingers works better. He can concentrate enough energy to make a reasonable impact in a target, assuming he ever hits one, and it will offer more accuracy and less blatant destruction in a combat situation. “Not bad!” Lance says. “Now that’s more up my alley. You’re still shooting wide, though—everything is tracking left so far. You should use your left hand to stabilize the shots. I guess you don’t have to really worry about a bad trigger pull putting your shot out of alignment, but the extra stability will help keep your shots clustered better.” “Alright,” Ryou agrees, and gives that a try too. It really does help, regardless of if he uses what Lance is already referring to as either ‘rifle’ form or ‘cannon’ form, and he’s able to at least nick the edges of the targets. “Still overestimating,” Lance muses thoughtfully, watching the shots. Ryou is impressed, actually; Lance looks confident and serious, with most of his goofiness and bravado having vanished. He knows what he’s doing and he’s doing it well, and not bothering to try and play it up for show. This, Ryou muses, is probably what Lance really is, underneath all the bluster and the confidence issues. “How do we fix that?” Ryou asks, encouraging. Lance glances back and forth between the targets and Ryou, thinking. “Stance,” he says finally, demonstrating. “Just to start. Relax your shoulders a little. Reposition your feet more like this. Keep your arms extended but not locked. You can face forward like this, or sideways like this, but either way it should be solid.” Ryou imitates, and Lance nods approvingly. “We also need to figure out aiming for this thing,” Lance says, pointing at the had. “It’s not like using an actual firearm…even if it is a literal firearm.”

 “That was also terrible, and not even original,” Ryou complains. “You did that already.”

 “Hey, who’s teaching who, here?” Lance says, arms crossed, before getting back to work. “You don’t have sights, so we’re going to have to figure out the right angle and level for a good shot, and then get your muscle memory and your brain used to it. Your shots have been a little low. Raise it just a little bit.” He adjusts Ryou’s wrist carefully, and nudges it just a hair to the right. “Okay. Try that.” Ryou does. The shot burns cleanly through the holographic target in the second ring. Lance whoops. “Nice! You hit it!” 

“Still not completely,” Ryou says, adjusting his aim just a little. He shoots again with two fingers. This time it strikes cleanly, dead center. 

Lance cheers again. “You’re already turning into a sharpshooter,” he says, grinning.

 “That was only because you did most of the targeting for me,” Ryou admits. Lance has an impressive aptitude for spacial awareness when it comes to this sort of thing. He doesn’t have Keith’s instinctive skills for knowing how to move and when in high-stakes flight with split-second timing, but Ryou is already starting to realize that Lance’s spacial skills excel on a different level. Lance can estimate distance and angle and calculate aim and trajectory impressively quickly, even when it’s not his weapon, and he appears to be doing that almost entirely by instinct. Lance shrugs. “It just takes practice. Try it again—see if you can find the angle yourself, now that you know around where your hand should be and you have a better idea of how it aims.” Ryou nods, and gives it a shot. Literally. Damn, he’s going to get as bad as Lance if this keeps up. They spend the next two vargas practicing. Lance helps Ryou master the basics of the stance and get used to estimating distance and aiming. He teaches him some breathing tricks, to help with not throwing off the shots, and Ryou learns to incorporate those quickly. Sometimes Lance demonstrates with his own bayard, summoning it to blast several of the targets in neat clusters, highlighted blue by the holographic displays. Whenever he does, he doesn’t use his sights. 

“They’re really useful, don’t get me wrong,” Lance says. “And I use them a lot in actual missions, but I think it’s really important to understand the limits and basics of your rifle without them too. If somebody’s in trouble I might not have time to actually line up a shot. I have to just take it, y’know? So I have to know how to do that and know where I’m aiming.” That’s fair, Ryou admits. And also encouraging. It means teaching himself to shoot with a prosthetic is feasible, if he can just get the muscle memory down. And after two vargas he does feel like he’s starting to get the hang of it. He can always hit the targets now, at least, although the shots still tend to cluster towards the outer edges of the rings, rather than the center. He gets closer to bull’s eyes as time progresses, and manages to nail a few even on his own. He learns to estimate the distances better and vary the power of his shots to hit things, and gets better at identifying when to use the ‘cannon’ form versus the ‘rifle’ form. Aiming and stabilizing gets more comfortable, as does finding the right angle and height to shoot from. “You’re doing great,” Lance says. “You’re already better than Keith. He can’t hit the broad side of a barn.” Ryou raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

 “He’s awful,” Lance says, almost cheerfully. “Did you know when he attacked Zarkon’s command he only hit like, once for every four shots?”

 “I didn’t,” Ryou says, although that’s not terribly surprising. Shiro had been pretty preoccupied at the time, and he never had been given an opportunity to discuss that battle after, on account of the whole ‘being teleported to the far side of the universe and being captured in his own head’ debacle. “Well, you’re doing good,” Lance says. “I think if you practice every day you’ll get the hang of basic shooting. You’re already figuring out your aim pretty well, you just need to get the muscle memory down. And when you’ve got that, I can start showing you how to hit moving targets, or to hit things while you’re moving. And some other tricks, too, for using the surrounding area to your advantage while shooting. I bet I could teach you some sniping, too—that’s always useful. Shiro keeps saying he wishes he had more people to play a support role in combat like that.”

 “Those all sound great,” Ryou says. “But for now, I think I need a break.” He’s only been standing still for a few hours and shooting, but he’s exhausted. He’s been doing very well in his failsafe recovery, putting on more weight and muscle and building up his endurance, but he still has a ways to go. He probably shouldn’t push himself too hard—not if he wants to be back in the field any time soon.

 “Oh…oh, right, of course!” Lance says. He looks like he’d forgotten Ryou had even been sick. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have made you practice for so long, I didn’t even think. Ugh. Teaching is hard.” “You didn’t do as badly as you think, and you didn’t force me to do anything,” Ryou says, vaguely amused. 

 “Maybe,” Lance says, as he hurries over to grab a couple of water packs from the dispenser in the corner, “But I definitely don’t want Shiro to yell at me about overworking you or anything.”

 Less hero worship there, Ryou thinks with an internal chuckle. Outwardly, he nods in thanks as he accepts his water pack, and says, “Yeah, he’s been…watchful, lately.” 

Lance sticks the straw in his water pack. “Yeah. But even with that, you’ll be a sharpshooter in no time.” 

“Thanks, Lance,” Ryou says. “I really do appreciate it.” 

 Lance grins. “No problem! We can set up more lessons like this, if you want. There’s lots of stuff I can show you, and it’ll be awesome to have another ranged person on the team.” He seems excited at the prospect of being able to teach someone anything, now that they’ve gotten over the ‘Shiro-ish’ hurdle. 

 “I won’t say no to that.��� There’s precious little else Ryou can really do at the moment. He won’t be going on missions for another feeb or two at least. He still has to focus on recovery, but when the others aren’t on missions, he can practice, too. “Great! Just let me know when.” 

 “You got it.” And then, curious, he asks, “Who taught you how to shoot? If you don’t mind my asking.”

 Lance grins again. “Would you believe my sister?” “Oh?” 

“Yeah. She’s Garrison, too. I don’t know if you’d remember her. I’m not even sure if Shiro ever met her. She’s pretty good with firearms, though. Taught me everything she knew when she heard I was thinking about joining, too.” He looks a little wistful at the very end, so Ryou says, “I’m sure she’d be real proud of you, putting all your skills to use like this. You’ve done a great job supporting everyone, both with that bayard and without.” 

Lance smiles. “Thanks, Ryou.”

 They finish off their water, and Ryou rolls his shoulders, trying to work some of the stiffness out of them after a few hours of standing and aiming. “You should probably check in with the others,” Ryou says. “And I’ll probably swing by and see if Hunk will let me help with dinner at all. But I’ll definitely be back tomorrow to give this a try again.”

 “Alright,” Lance agrees. “Good luck, and let me know when you want to do more practice stuff.” He brightens. “Maybe you can even get me out of group training?” 

“Don’t push your luck, Lance,” Ryou says, amused. “But I’ll see what I can do,” he adds, at Lance’s crestfallen expression. “Yes! Great! Thanks!” Lance grins as he heads out the door.

 Ryou smiles a little, and then glances down at his Olkari fist. He’s not there yet—he’s still got a lot of practice and a lot of recovery left to go. But by the time he gets there, he’s going to be ready for anything.

trident task 5: the basics

Basic Character Questions

First name? Waverly 

Surname? Keating

Middle names? Amelia 

Nicknames? Waves, Wav

Date of birth? August 3rd, 1994

Age? 24 

Physical / Appearance

Height? 5′2″

Weight? 110 lbs 

Build? thin

Hair color? blonde 

Hair style? straight with bangs 

Eye color? hazel 

Eye Shape? big 

Glasses or contact lenses? none 

Distinguishing facial features? lips & jaw 

Which facial feature is most prominent? eyes 

Which bodily feature is most prominent? ass 

Other distinguishing features? big fan of makeup

Skin? pale as hell 

Hands? thin fingers with lots of small marks from poking herself with a needle

Make up? always, generally a natural look with darker eyes 

Scars? looks like a crescent moon behind her left ear 

Birthmarks? an array of dots on her right hip bone 

Tattoos? none 

Physical handicaps? none 

Type of clothes? handmade and very fit to her style, she enjoys lace on the highkey

How do they wear their clothes? confidently

What are their feet like? everything has to look perfect, clean shoes and clean feet 

Race / Ethnicity? American 

Mannerisms? blunt in her words and actions 

Are they in good health? yes 

Do they have any disabilities? no

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse? 

Do they have a catchphrase? no, way too corny 

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic? depends on the day 

Are they introverted or extroverted? extroverted 

Do they ever put on airs? absolutely, all throughout her life 

What bad habits do they have? not the cleanest when it comes to her villa 

What makes them laugh out loud? terrible jokes, bad movies, people she likes 

How do they display affection? physically first of all and then she’ll be very attentive 

Mental handicaps? she was never diagnosed, but definitely has ADHD

How do they want to be seen by others? perfect 

How do they see themselves? very flawed 

How are they seen by others? closed-off 

Strongest character trait? confidence and loyalty to her family

Weakest character trait? moments of doubt in herself 

How competitive are they? not generally unless they feel threatened 

Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider? snap judgments but they can be convinced 

How do they react to praise? very well

How do they react to criticism? they’ll act like it’s fine and they don’t care and then think a lot about it later 

What is their greatest fear? losing someone she loves 

What are their biggest secrets? the way her parents treated her and the things she did to get by growing up 

What is their philosophy of life? survive and enjoy it while you do 

When was the last time they cried? like 3 days ago 

What haunts them? the possibility of seeing her parents again 

What are their political views? anti-royals 

What will they stand up for? girl power 

Who do they quote? no one, come up with your own sayings 

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? depends on the day 

What is their sinful little habit? love that sex 

What sense do they most rely on? touch 

How do they treat people better than them? she doesn’t consider anyone better than her 

How do they treat people worse than them? she also doesn’t consider anyone worse than her 

What quality do they most value in a friend? openness 

What do they consider an overrated virtue? patience 

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? her neediness 

What is their obsession? definitely sex 

What are their pet peeves? people that chew with their mouth open 

What are their idiosyncrasies? always fixing her outfit or hair 

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of? her twin brother and older brother 

What is their perception of family? her brothers 

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? yes ^^^ 

Describe their best friend. her twin, literally know everything about each other and are definitely connected on another level 

Ideal best friend? she already has that 

Describe their other friends. her crew and people that she can stand to be around 

Describe their acquaintances. people that don’t seem to be too awful 

Do they have any pets? no 

Who are their natural allies? people with good taste that aren’t annoying 

Who are their surprising allies? people from completely different backgrounds 

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child? very sickly as a baby, always smaller than most her age growing up but always energetic 

Did they grow up rich or poor? very very poor 

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected? very very neglected 

What is the most offensive thing they ever said? that’s the ugliest dick i’ve ever seen in my life 

What is their greatest achievement? becoming a pirate 

What was their first kiss like? gross and wet 

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? left them 

What are their ambitions? she would love to have her own clothing line 

What advice would they give their younger self? you’re stronger than anyone will ever think you are

What smells remind them of their childhood? fried food 

What was their childhood ambition? to be an actress 

What is their best childhood memory? the day her brothers and her skipped school and went to the fair 

What is their worst childhood memory? any time their parents were especially abusive 

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend? no 

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? when she didn’t get to see her brothers for christmas 

What past act are they most ashamed of? sleeping with people for money 

What past act are they most proud of? joining neptune’s rage 

Has anyone ever saved their life? yes 

Strongest childhood memory? throwing a fit when her brother and her weren’t in the same class in second grade until they put them together 

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight? no 

Are they in a relationship? yes 

How do they behave in a relationship? very sexually 

When did you character last have sex? yesterday 

What sort of sex do they have? all the kinds 

Has your character ever been in love? yes 

Have they ever had their heart broken? yes 

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat? with threats of her own 

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? tongue 

What is your character’s kryptonite? the people she love s

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? ipad with all her sketches 

How do they perceive strangers? threats 

What do they love to hate? annoying people 

What are their phobias? snakes 

What is their choice of weapon? knife 

What living person do they most despise? her parents and her elementary school principal 

Have they ever been bullied or teased? yes 

Where do they go when they’re angry? anywhere near water 

Who are their enemies and why? anyone that’s trying to bring harm to anyone she loves 

Work, Education and Hobbies

What is their current job? boatswain 

What do they think about their current job? love it 

What are some of their past jobs? escort, ice cream shop, cheer coach 

What are their hobbies? design 

Educational background? some highschool 

Intelligence level? smart when she applies herself 

Do they have any specialist training? nope 

Do they have a natural talent for something? design and sewing 

Do they play a sport? Are they any good? cheerleading and gymnastics and yes 

What is their socioeconomic status? middle class 

Favorites

What is their favorite animal? lion 

Which animal to they dislike the most? snakes 

What place would they most like to visit? greece 

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? the sun rise 

What is their favorite song? sweet creature - harry styles 

Music, art, reading preferred? yes, art then music then reading, it’s hard for her to sit down for an extended period of time 

What is their favorite color? pink 

What is their password? bubbles17

Favorite food: anything chinese 

What is their favorite work of art? the scream 

Who is their favorite artist? Coco Chanel 

What is their favorite day of the week? friday 

Possessions

What is in their fridge: all fresh food 

What is on their bedside table? glass of water and her ipad 

What is in their car? don’t have one 

What is in their bin? condoms 

What is in their purse or wallet? makeup 

What is in their pockets? phone

What is their most treasured possession? necklace her brothers gave her for her sixteenth birthday 

Spirituality

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel? older brother 

Do they believe in the afterlife? unsure 

What are their religious views? god is a dick 

What do they think heaven is? a lot of sex 

What do they think hell is? a lot of fire 

Are they superstitious? no

What would they like to be reincarnated as? a bird 

How would they like to die? peacefully and not alone 

What is your character’s spirit animal? lion 

What is their zodiac sign? Leo 

Values

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? taking everything of love 

What is their view of ‘freedom’? safety 

When did they last lie? can’t remember 

What’s their view of lying? too much effort 

When did they last make a promise? two weeks ago 

Did they keep or break their last promise? so far so good 

Daily life

What are their eating habits? natural and healthy as can be but with a strong sweet tooth 

Do they have any allergies? none 

Describe their home. modern and generally neat except for a few articles of clothing here and there or magazines piled up or notebooks

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? generally a minimalist 

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning? shower 

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon? sex 

What do they do on a Friday night? drinking and sex 

What is the soft drink of choice? anything with alcohol 

What is their alcoholic drink of choice? tequila or vodka 

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype? Popular Bitch 

Who is their hero? Coco Chanel 

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween? audrey hepburn 

Are they comfortable with technology? yes 

If they could save one person, who would it be? their twin 

If they could call one person for help, who would it be? their twin 

What is their favorite proverb? Never half ass two things. Whole ass one thing. 

What is their greatest extravagance? her designs 

What is their greatest regret? not leaving sooner 

What is their perception of redemption? obtainable 

What would they do if they won the lottery? buy her siblings three huge houses right next to each other and start her clothing line 

What is their favorite fairytale? cinderella 

What fairytale do they hate? ariel 

Do they believe in happy endings? unsure 

What is their idea of perfect happiness? being with the few people she loves 

What would they ask a fortune teller? if she’s doing the right thing

If your character could travel through time, where would they go? to the future to see what it looks like 

What sport do they excel at? cheer/gymnastics 

What sport do they suck at? running 

If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? flying 

Lord Shiro Elune

Basics

FULL NAME: Shiro Elune COMMON NAME: Shiro, Lord, Duke NICKNAME(S)/ALIAS(ES):  ‘King’(White Chess Piece), Man in the White Suit

AGE: 38 BIRTHDAY: 13th Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon APPEARS HOW OLD: 28

RACE: Keeper of the Moon NATIONALITY: Coerthas Highlands - Ishgard, Holy Sees

GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Straight RELATIONSHIP STATUS: In a Relationship

Physical

HAIR: Pure White EYES: Piercing Ice Blue

SKIN: Midnight onyx tinted skin. HEIGHT:  6 fulms BUILD: Athletically Fit

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Unique white markings that blend into his facial hair of two lines that come forward towards his eyes, that contrast with his black-lines the combinations of these are the proof of his succession in the Ishgardian noble bloodline catching his resemblance of his late Father, Silv’a Elune.  Who had to earn his title from years of contribution as a fierce destructive force as a Black Mage who mastered and manipulated the aspect of Ice during the Dragonsong War and rescued several Elezen. COMMON ACCESSORIES / APPAREL: Elegant and extravagant jewelry of the finest Goldsmiths among Ishgard but doesn’t often wear them too regularly unless making appearances. His uniforms are all pristine and tailored to the highest of qualities from his servants and also from the best apparel shop that Ishgard has to offer when it comes to weaving. He is nothing but classy constantly. He also supports his color scheme of pure white matching his groomed hairstyle which is often cleanly combed and conditioned. It’s rare for him to allow a single ounce of grime or dirt to even hit him even in battle. He often has holstered a single rapier of magnificence worth that was named after his Mother and Half-Sister, called, Mol’usa. Forged and blessed with enchantments to restrict any of the Five Senses when stricken.

Personal

PROFESSION: Ishgardian Duke, Noble Lord, Ex-Pirate Captain of the Seas and Sky, Planner. HOBBIES: Training, Painter, Writer, Researcher TRAINING: Noble Fighting Style, Beholder, Various Magic Training.

ALLEGIANCE(S): Goldbrand, Ishgard, Twin Adders, Shadow Lurkers, House of Elune (Own Knights). RANK(S): Lord AFFILIATION(S): Only if you’re not completely useless.

LANGUAGE(S): Eorzean, Pirate, Dragon Speak, Xaelic SOCIAL STATUS: Highborn FINANCIAL STATUS: Extremely wealthy and rising. CRIMINAL STATUS: No recorded crimes been found by any city-state not even a blimp of history. He though in secretly has led a pirate crew before and did vile things but always under an alias and disguised always using his intelligence to stay ahead. EDUCATIONAL STATUS: Tremendously educated in the History of the Holy Sees, Dragonsong War, rather familiar with Xaela tribes and is fascinated by them. He’s fascinated on a world level acquiring notes and details through text-smarts. But never through actual experiences to often. He also has a connection with the Dragonkin in Dravanian Forelands and their own history of ancients.

TITLE(S): ‘Ass’, Captain of the White Draco’s. White Wolf, White Moon, Lord, Duke.

RESIDENCE: Ishgard, Apartments, Diamond Sky (Sky/Sea shifting Ship). BIRTHPLACE: Ishgard

RELIGION: Former Cultist of the Primal Shiva, Of the Harriers. PATRON DEITY: Halone, Star-watcher so all constellations are admired and revered. SPIRITUAL BELIEFS: We guide ourselves, If we cannot protect what our beliefs reside in, then we have no purpose holding anything, wealth, title, love. It’s all an oath of the pride of a true Noble.

Relationships

SPOUSE(S): None PARTNER(S): Gylda Rose CHILDREN: None

PARENTS: Silv’a Elune (Father), Xusa Moshantu (Mother) SIBLINGS: Moli Moshantu (Younger Half Sister), Maybe. OTHER RELATIVES: Probably distant relatives scattered but none under Noble heritage besides his Father and himself. Then half-blooded sister, Moli.

ENEMIES/RIVALS: Kuro Solaire, Sea Lurkers, Sea Witch,  The Saint of the Dragon King’s, Orsomyr, Marsu’dumen, Flithy Pirates, Nobles who hang to their title and show no effort to proving their worth as a successor.  Worthless trash.

BEST FRIENDS: Sha Dragonheart

PETS: Hoarius - Fenrir Pup

Attributes

STRENGTH: Below Average AGILITY: Slightly Above Average WILLPOWER: Corruptible, Power-Hungry, But also has a tremendous amount of Pride that leaves him above average or above. INTELLECT: He excels above all else in intelligence at supreme levels thinking hundreds of steps ahead of the curve thinking of everything like an ongoing Ishgardian Chess game. Strategic, He’s a practical prodigy when it comes to plans and detecting the slightest details off. He can disband pirate crews, he can command a small amount of men to defeat legions with precise maneuvering and effectively think of situations and observe the talents of others. He doesn’t come at all close to being like any Keeper of traditional tribal cloth. WISDOM: He has a tremendous ray of knowledge of all forms of culture and often with textbooks alone can recite them from all pages and passages. He knows whenever a situation is grim and can fold or even decide to commit a suicidal move in order to take control of the board, even if it means working with his least likely allies to achieve it, but only after they can be trusted. CHARISMA: Incredibly Aloof, Harsh, Pompous, Prideful, Arrogant, Jealous, Defensive. He hates socializing despite being a Noble but will attend events anyway, since Ishgard is mainly governed by Elezen in-population and the Highest Ranking of Nobles dwell there are Elezen, he’s had no fondness towards many since suffering discrimination was common. But still has found convincing ways to get others to join causes or even recruit people to a Noble cause.

COMBAT SKILL: Daggers, Rapiers, Staffs are basically all he’s trained with wielding and knows how to effectively utilize his combat prowess beyond that is rather lackluster but he’s an avidly quick learner dependent on the teacher. He is a master at Noble fighting style with small weapons. ARTISTIC SKILL: He is on a whole different level with his aetherial ice magic, he can mend and weave and bend Ice to be turned into melding into any shape or design nearly he wants on the fly. Doing incredible feats, he is an artist outside of battling which helps him even more. His brain really is his ultimate weapon. TECHNICAL SKILL: He can think of several alternative ways to battle or swap stances or do situations that will allow him to get an edge decisively to win a drawn out battle. Always predicting his opponents and their flaws and analyzing even if he has to go in disguise or infiltrate. MAGICAL SKILL:  He’s studied in the Void gaining and obtaining Mhachi arts but with a costs, he’s tapped and learned ways to stop, slow or revert Time under the right situation only helping that his Mother was part Astrologian. He can bring out the dark in others if he himself is imbued with enough wickedness and feed it to others with presence. He’s learned forbidden blood magic obtaining the art of Necromancy also while in the Void studies bringing back his former dead crew as Skeletons. He’s able to use a modified version of his natural Ice aspect and evolve it to Diamond Ice after studies and acquiring tears from Shiva while serving in the Harriers. Lastly he can top into Beholder a Dragonkin form that is trained and learned by drinking Dragon Blood, kindred to the Dragoons that ultimately allows him to hit the peak of his abilities but become more savage and rely on instinct more than his cunning intellect. He is a very defensive fighter drawing out others while observing them during contest until notices their flaw and then will capitalize.

—— HABITS —— • Straightening his outfit • Pacing and pondering • Putting his arms behind his back and holding them together.

—— FEARS —— • His short list of loved ones dying and being unable to protect them. • Often doesn’t express it but he’s afraid of the waters despite sailing on them. After he acquired his Mhachi magick, he was cursed to the point if he ever meets shallow water he’ll become powerless and sink to the bottom to drown to death. • Falling in Love and losing them horrifically.

Favorites

COLOR: Pure White SMELL: Expensive Cologne, Azeyma Roses FOOD: Calamari Pizza, Spicy Food DRINK: Wine, Champagne, Water, Frosted-Grape Wine ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE: Wine or Champagne. 

Daredevil 101: Echo

Thanks for sticking with me through “Guardian Devil,” friends. Brighter days are ahead of us! Well, not for Matt, he’s going to continue to be abjectly miserable for about 12 years, but the comics are a lot better.

Today, Matt tries to process Karen’s death with a little rebound in “Parts of a Hole.” This is written by David Mack and the art is a collaborative process between him and Joe Quesada, blending Quesada’s more traditional (though still very experimental for the time) work with Mack’s paintings. The result is a book that definitely has some rough patches, but is visually stunning. (If Mack’s work looks familiar, it’s probably because his Alias covers were the inspiration for the Jessica Jones opening credits.)

[ETA: I was incorrect about the above - Mack did thumbnail layouts but the art is all Quesada.]

Also, it introduces Echo, and she’s the best.

This is how it starts:

Yeah, Matt’s not in a great headspace these days.

I think this page is mostly Quesada, with some Mack influences in the background and hand lettering. I’d love to know their creative process for this story, because this was still the early days of digital art and sending huge files to collab on was no small thing.

With the new headquarters of Nelson and Murdock still under construction, Matt seems to spend most of his time wandering around his palatial home in a robe, playing piano:

This isn’t really plot-relevant, but I couldn’t deprive you guys of it. Also, Matt must have made an insane salary working for Rosalind because he had no savings when she hired him and yet he apparently bounced back enough to get a place in Manhattan with floor-to-ceiling windows and fill it with a grand piano. (Quesada is the king of giving Matt ludicrous, implausibly expensive surroundings; in another miniseries Matt has an entire room dedicated to his collection of Japanese armor and weaponry.)

Matt is not the only piano player in this story, though. Meet Maya Lopez:

Maya is Cheyenne (and presumably Latina, going by her last name, though that’s not confirmed in the text). She was born deaf, but she can remember and perfectly mimic anything she sees. When her father, Willie “Crazy Horse” Lincoln, was killed, his employer became her legal guardian. Once the guardian realized she was a prodigy, he spared no expense getting her the best schools and tutors to allow her to develop her gifts to their full potential.

Maya is a celebrated concert pianist, boxer, performance artist, and more. Her body does everything she asks of it, and audiences love her story of overcoming the odds. (Don’t let the childish drawings fool you - she’s about Matt’s age. I like the conceit artistically, but it does make her come off as much younger than him or somehow emotionally arrested. I mean, I guess she is, since she hasn’t made peace with her father’s death, but no one’s more emotionally arrested that Matthew M. Murdock.)

And who is her munificent guardian? Oh, just Wilson Fisk.

Fisk’s narration at the bottom picks up some of the themes of “Guardian Devil” - that Matt’s problems are because the women in his life have failed him - and it’s gross. Also gross? That he’s about to pimp out his foster daughter in yet another effort to destroy Matt from the inside. STOP TRYING TO BREAK HIS HEART, WILSON. JUST FUCKING SHOOT HIM.

But yeah, even though Fisk does seem to genuinely care about Maya - and she loves him and has no idea he’s anything but a legitimate “spice dealer” - he also recognizes that Matt will be drawn to her due to their shared life experiences, and so he sends her to see him on some legal pretense.

Before that, though, Matt and Foggy have a client (who they’re seeing at Matt’s house, since the office is under construction). His name is Lenny, he’s a former employee of Fisk’s who wants to flip on him, and he’s got a speech impediment that Matt has no trouble with but Foggy can’t quite get a handle on:

The bullet grazes Matt’s cheek - and kills Lenny. Matt suits up and takes down the sniper - a weirdo of a hired killer named Murphy - but it’s too late to save their client.

The next day, Matt’s a little stiff and concussed, but Foggy’s a mess:

I think Foggy’s OTT emotional reaction here is supposed to be comic relief, but it’s worth remembering that in the last storyline Foggy was drugged and sexually assaulted, arrested on false charges, fired by his own mother because she thought he was a rapist, and lost his second best friend in the world to a horribly violent murder. So yeah, not a shock that he’s fragile right now:

Anyway, drink it in, friends: Matt holding Foggy while he cries and then someone assuming they’re boyfriends. Also, presumably Matt heard Maya come in but decided that Foggy was more important. Aw.

Maya tells Matt about the flimsy legal pretense Fisk sent her there on and they make plans to meet to discuss it in more detail while he’s wearing pants. (She’s an expert lip reader so as long as they’re facing each other there’s no problem with communication.) Matt is charmed because Maya is adorable and smells really good and Matt is profoundly vulnerable right now and also, as Wolverine once put it, “the biggest himbo that ever wore a pair of tights.” (That line is CANON, folks!)

Next, Maya goes to see Fisk and ask him a very important question:

Who killed Maya’s father? Why, Daredevil, of course.

Having a specific person to blame has a profound effect on Maya. She does her best to process this new information through her art, in a one-woman show she writes and choreographs called Echo:

The handprint on her face represents the bloody handprint her father left there as he died. (This page is pure Mack, btw.)

But just performing it isn’t enough. She needs revenge.

But first, she needs to meet Matt Murdock for coffee!

I love Maya’s description of Matt up there, which could come out of pretty much anything on AO3 today. (Maybe Charlie Cox really took this comic to heart while he was researching the character?) I also love that she is serving up a serious 1999 Look (TM) while he looks like a pallbearer.

Anyway, they are utterly smitten with one another and it’s super cute. They agree to see each other again and part happily.

A few hours later, Echo attacks Daredevil:

Right, so Matt obviously knows immediately that it’s Maya - I’m not even sure he knows she’s wearing a costume. (And the handprint doesn’t really hide her face anyway.) But unless Maya stops for long enough to read his lips, she’ll have no idea it’s Matt (even though he tries to tell her right away, which is admirable, but dude, don’t ever tell Foggy about that).

I have to say, Maya’s costume makes sense for “I’m a dancer in the late 90s who is gonna go do some parkour and kill a guy, what do I have in my closet that works?” but it’s pretty half-assed design-wise. It’s...a sports bra and pants and Docs. The feathers are a really lazy “Also, Native American!” addition. My kingdom for a redesign and series by a Native artist. (Maya’s plotline here only touches on her Cheyenne heritage in passing, but there’s a later vision quest storyline that’s...dicey.)

The fight is broken up when some kids appear and Maya doesn’t want them witnessing violence. Matt’s left trying to figure out why Maya’s trying to kill him.

Meanwhile, the Lenny case isn’t over! See, Lenny has a twin brother named Larry, and both he and Murphy (the sniper) are willing to testify against Fisk. The DA’s office makes Foggy a special ADA due to his familiarity with Fisk’s history and general badassery. To rattle him, Fisk hires Rosalind:

The absolute pair on you, Franklin. My God.

Taking this case is a sublimely shitty move on Rosalind’s part, of course, on multiple levels. (And yes, I know I said last time it would be the last time we saw her, but I’d forgotten about this. She’ll be back one more time in a few years, too.)

Foggy loses...and kind of flips out, openly calling Fisk a murderer and accusing him of buying off the jury. It’s not stated outright, but I have to imagine his mother coolly opposing him in court after abandoning him without a second thought didn’t help his emotional state.

As Fisk leaves the court, he’s attacked by Larry, looking to avenge his brother. Daredevil shows up, but too late:

Fisk falls into the river and is presumed dead. Matt takes the gun from Larry and is photographed holding it - and Maya, seeing the photos and the headlines, thinks Daredevil just killed her second father.

Meanwhile Foggy, still in his role as an ADA (with no acknowledgment from the story that he used to be DA), is tearing through Fisk’s organization while, uh, Matt faps to it:

ILU FOGGY YOU BEAUTIFUL AVOCADO

Oh, but Fisk’s not dead, of course:

Nope, just hanging out in the sewer eating rats. This is like the third time, idk why Daredevil characters always end up in the sewers but they super do.

Oh, and we get so Fisk backstory which clearly informed the show:

Baby Fisk kills some random dude with a hammer, not his dad - we don’t actually know what happens to his parents - but the hammer is there, as is the working class household full of fighting.

Meanwhile, Echo goes after Daredevil again - but when the cut from the earlier bullet graze opens up on his cheek, she remembers Matt’s injury and finally recognizes him:

Sigh. Did we really need that much sideboob, Quesada?

Anyway, Maya finally draws the inevitable conclusion: Fisk killed her father, not Daredevil. It’s not entirely clear why Willie would’ve asked his murderer to care for his child or why Fisk did it (side note: I’d love to know what kind of relationship, if any, Maya had with Fisk’s son).

And so Maya finally confronts her father’s killer:

Maya leaves town to figure herself out. Matt returns to the slow process of healing. And Fisk? Fisk gets the ironic ending. I’m not sure exactly where Maya shot him, but, well...

Next up: Bendis!

Inktober for Writers/Fictober:

Day 10- Honor (Darejones)

This one is a special treat for @martial-quill who gave me the idea based on some lovely fan art by @mrsdaredevil. You are both amazing, beautiful human beings and I hope you enjoy this.

This fic fits with all of my other just stuff, just before they officially get together. Prompt list here, just in case, and links to previous days at the bottom.

Also, let’s go ahead and assume that I don’t ever have enough time to final edit these unless I specify otherwise (sorry, but what even is free time?!), though I will eventually edit all of them and post them to AO3. Thanks for reading!

Day 10- Honor

As he runs over the events of the last few moments in his head, he has to admit- it a stupid mistake. A careless moment following a maneuver he’d pulled off plenty times without incident. But this time he’d been distracted, by Jessica, of course. And now he was paying the price for that distraction- with his ankle, specifically.

It happened as he was grappling down from the rooftop where the two of them had been standing moments earlier, waiting to cut off the path of the mobster Luke and Danny had funneled their direction. But Jessica’s chosen method of fall-flying put her on the ground several moments before him, leaving him to follow behind her by grappling down the fire escape with the cable of his billy club.

As he reaches the end of his swing and is about to touch down on the ground, his focus shifts completely to Jessica as he hears the guy she is fighting pull out a knife and get in one jab before she throws him against the brick wall of the alley. He gives a small sigh of relief as he realizes that the knife only got her jacket and not her, but his attention is diverted for just enough time to cause him to misjudge the distance to the ground at the moment of impact. And that causes him to mistime his landing, leading him to twist his ankle. And it really kind of hurts.

He falls forward on his hands and knees, cursing under his breath as he calls back his billy club.

Jessica’s head bobs up from where she’s kneeling into the mobster’s chest, keeping him in place. “Smooth move, dumbass.”

He sighs around a grimace as he struggles to stand. “Yeah, well, I did just turn my ankle in the process of hurrying to your rescue. So maybe you could act a little grateful.” His voice is strained and tight as he attempts to put weight on his foot and immediately comes to regret the decision, letting out a groan.

She huffs a chuckle at him. “Sounds like you’re the one that needs rescuing, Snow White.”

He sucks in a breath, resting the toe of his boot on the ground and leaning against the wall of the building behind him. “Does that make you Prince Charming? Because I’m not sure you’re charming enough for that.”

She scoffs, but he can hear that she’s really suppressing a laugh. “We’ll see if you change your tune when I’m carrying your limping ass around.”

He gives her a skeptical look, even though it’s hidden beneath his mask. “Hold on. Who said anything about that?”

She shrugs. “If you want to try to walk home, be my guest.”

With a frown, he realizes that she’s totally right. He’s in way too much pain to be able to do that. But he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it… which, happens to be several minutes later, after Luke and Danny arrive to deliver the mobster to Misty.

And then it’s just the two of them again- him, standing awkwardly against the wall, and her standing across from him, radiating smugness. After a beat he takes a breath as he swallows his pride and breaks the silence.

“So… what was that you were saying about carrying me around?”

She snorts, crossing her arms and causing her leather jacket to creak with the movement. “Oh, you need help now? Huh. Actually, I think I’ll need to check my schedule for the night, and see if I have any other pressing matters which need my attention…”

He presses his mouth into a thin line. “I deserve that. But clearly you were right and-“

Her tone is uncharacteristically bright as she interrupts him. “Wait, what? What was that? Did you just say I was right?”

He blows out an exasperated sigh and leans his head against the brick behind him. His tone is nothing short of labored as he gives her a mirthless smile. “Yes. And I would appreciate it if you could-“

“Wow, and now you’re actually asking for my help? What a night.”

He closes his eyes and hangs his head. “Jess, as much as I would love for you to continue to mock me shamelessly, I do have one request- can you do it after you’ve taken me home? So I can take some painkillers and put my foot up before you really get into it?”

She chuckles under her breath and uncrosses her arms, taking a few steps closer. “Fine. I guess you are being a fairly good sport. I will pause, and I might even find it in my heart to only do half of the roast material I was planning when we get to your place.”

He chuckles in spite of himself and presses off the wall. “So, how should we do this?”

She crosses the few remaining steps between them and picks him up in a bridal carry without any comment, or sign of effort. But he finds himself protesting almost immediately.

“Wait, really? That’s how you’re gonna do this?”

“What’s the matter, Murdock? And I disgracing your honor as a man? I didn’t think you had any of that left at this point, what with admitting to being wrong and asking for help. But if you’re that upset about it, your other choice is to have me sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”

He feels her gaze on him, sharp and challenging, like she’s daring him to refuse. But he knows that he’s completely at her mercy, so he just sighs, shrinking down into her hold, resigned to his fate.

The tone she uses tells him she just rolled her eyes at him. “That’s what I thought. Now, hold on. I’ve been told that the first jump is a bit of a doozy.” And then she’s bending her knees, gathering potential energy until she pushes off a second later, causing them to jettison up into the air.

It’s an exhilarating sensation, but it’s also quite disorienting; they are high up enough that there are few things in the vicinity which can help him get his bearings to understand just how far they are traveling and how quickly. But there’s a certain kind of freedom in that unknown, because somehow, he is absolutely certain that Jessica will not let go, will not let anything happen to him. He inexplicably knows that he’s safe with her.

And a realization hits him like a ton of bricks. Because he has tried, for weeks now, to do the same for her. He has done everything he could imagine to try to help her feel secure around him, has tried with every breath to show her that he would do anything for her. But he never realized that he needed to feel that too. And now that he does, he feels invisible weights, which he has been carrying for longer than he can remember, dissolve off of his shoulders. And he instinctively curls into her. Because it suddenly feels like he belongs right there, in her arms, and he always will. And the subtle way that she holds him the slightest bit tighter as he relaxes in her arms tells him that she just might agree with him about that.

He spends the rest of the trip to his apartment savoring the moment, breathing in her scent and allowing himself to revel in the security he feels with her arms around him. And shortly after, when he’s sitting on his couch with his foot up, she’s headed toward his door. But he stops her, and invites her to stay, just for a drink. And something about the way her breathing slows and her shoulders relax when he offers, as though she’s releasing some of the tension that she just can’t ever seem to truly get rid of, makes him think that maybe he’s been the slightest bit successful in his efforts. Maybe she is starting to feel safe around him, too. And with any luck, and a just little more time, he’s hopeful that she can come to feel as safe and secure as he did, all while wrapped up in his arms.

Day 9 | Day 11

Feeling Alive (Part 1)

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Slow Hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 2/?: Slow Hands

Word count: 3999

Love to @systemfailuresunshine for her endless patience. See bottom for author notes!

You dash into the studio with your bag held over your head and rainwater soaking your shoes.

“Hey, Y/N!” Wanda theatrically raises her eyebrows as you shut the door behind you. “Is it raining out there?”

You pull a face at her.

“I’m fu-fricking drenched,” You say, vehemently. “As soon as I left work, boom! The heavens opened!”

Pepper, poised and polished in the middle of the space, pulls a sympathetic face. “Do you want to borrow some spare socks? I’ve brought a pair?”

You hesitate, then nod gratefully. You’re practically squelching with every step you take. At least you’d had the sense not to put on your trainers when you left work. Pepper fishes in her bag for the socks as you cross to where Clint is stood and shuck your way out of your coat (dripping water everywhere).

“Good week?” Clint asks, even as he dodges the spray. You tilt your head in a so-so gesture.

“Not bad. Had one-” You get stuck on the sign for ‘crying’ and have to mime, “-Crying jag today- not me,” You add hastily, noting Clint’s concerned expression, “One of the students. Exams are getting to them.”

Clint shakes his head and sketches out his reply with his fingers. “And I thought libraries were boring.”

You give a small smile. Clint’s deaf- or, as he says, as near to it as it makes no matter- and although he does have hearing aids, he tends to leave them out around people he knows can sign. You’re not totally fluent, but you can get by just fine. You frame your next question with a hook of the fingers. “You?”

He nods. “Not bad. I took Laura to the restaurant you mentioned, she seemed to really like it.”

You grin at that, holding up your hand for a high-five before showing your reply. “What did I tell you? Glad you had fun.”

Clint looks a little bashful, but pleased at the same time. He and Laura have been tentatively dating for nearly two months now, and things seem to be going well. Pepper gently taps you on the shoulder and offers you a clean pair of socks.

“Thanks, Pepper. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” She says, sweetly. “Are you alright for getting home?”

You shrug. “If it’s still raining that hard I can get a bus. And a bit of water never killed anyone.” You struggle with the sign for ‘kill’: not one you use very often.

Clint raises his hand. “Objection.”

You roll your eyes. “Nobody ever drowned in rainwater. Happy?”

“I’ll be happier when you get your ass in gear, Y/N!” Wanda calls. “We’re all waiting for you!”

Oops. You quickly slide off your over-trousers to reveal your workout leggings, pull off your jumper and swap your sodden shoes and socks for dry trainers. Clint slides in his hearing aids, offers you a hand up, and together you walk out onto the floor.

“Sorry, Wanda,” You apologise sheepishly, but she just smiles. You’ve known her for years now, ever since you started taking classes at Scarlet Studios as part of a New Years’ Resolution that, astonishingly, you had actually managed to keep. Over that time, you’ve become close friends with both her and your classmates. You often think of the Wednesday class as a little family: small, weird, and weirdly comfortable with each other.

But before Wanda can start the class, there’s a knock at the door. Wanda looks at you all, before shrugging and walking over to answer it. Two strange guys are standing outside.

“Can I help you?” Wanda asks.

“Sorry to bother you,” The blonde one says, immediately, “But we’re looking for the advanced commercial dance class?”

You look at Pepper, stood beside you. Her expression mirrors yours: bemusement. It’s not like anyone can just walk into the advanced class- dancers are expected to work their way up Wanda’s program until she decides you’re capable of coping with Wednesday nights. It’s that process that gives them all such a feeling of camaraderie. Plus there’s no room for awkwardness when you’ve all been through a routine that involved fifteen solid seconds (Clint had timed it) of grinding up on your partner. New people would just throw a wrench in the dynamics of the troupe. But, to your astonishment, Wanda steps aside, nodding.

“You’re the pupils from the Academy, right?”

“Right.” He holds out his hand to shake. “Steve Rogers.”

It makes for an interesting visual: Wanda in her bright red sports bra and skin-tight leggings, faced with this huge guy in a long-sleeved t-shirt and baggy trousers. Wanda takes his hand, looking as though she’s fighting back a smile. “Please, join the rest of the class. And you must be James?”

The other guy steps into the room. One look and you can tell he has none of the easy charm of his friend. His expression is set in something approaching distaste, and he only nods at Wanda’s address. You can feel your expression creasing up into a frown. Dammit. And he was so good-looking. Still, you suppose, it’s better to know he’s a jerk now, rather than make an effort for no reason. You turn back to the front as the newcomers slope to the back and Wanda takes her customary position.

“Right, warmups! We’ll start off going through last weeks’ routine in half-time and solo, before partnering up. Ready?”

“Born ready,” Clint quips, and you laugh. Wanda smirks.

“We’ll see if you’re still saying that in five minutes! A five, six, a seven and eight!”

The routine Wanda had begun teaching you last week was set to an extract from Stay, and it was one of your favourites. It might not have the punchiness of some of the faster songs, but you liked the soft, almost melancholy build. Wanda had accentuated that with loose, even drapes of the arms and level changes that now make your legs shake when going through them at half-speed; then came a series of isolations that increased in rapidity until the chorus kicked in. You moved through them easily, enjoying the feeling of your body loosening and your mind tuning in with the rhythm, even though no music was playing yet.

“Good! Steve, James, you can join in this time.” You spare a look over your shoulder to see the two strangers looking lost, and try not to feel too smug.

Wanda counts you all in once more and again the moves flow out easily, right up to the point where you join with your partner.

The only problem with the Wednesday class was that because it was so small, it was very rare that there were enough dancers to pair up, particularly when there were separate moves for the lead and follow. These past few weeks you’d been dancing with Wanda: which was no great hardship, given that she knew the motions inside out. Now you looked at her expectantly as she walked over and raised her voice so the rest of the class could hear.

“Partner work begins now! Steve, James, you can observe and learn the moves for next week. The rest of you, start a couple of feet apart: I don’t want to have to sign off the paperwork for any injuries.”

There’s a general chuckle, and you face off to Wanda.

“Five, six, a seven and eight!”

And you start the next section.

By the time you’ve completed the warmup, you’re already in need of a drink and you can feel sweat beginning to bead at the small of your back. Wanda calls for a five-minute break and everyone disperses to their water bottles. You take a swig from yours and gratefully accept the towel Clint tosses your way. Pepper shakes her head. “That backbend section is going to kill me!”

“Nah,” You crack a smile, “Not unless Clint drops you.” They both laugh. “Anyway, Pepper, you’re way more flexible than I am.”

Pepper waves that away. Then her gaze settles on something beyond Clint; you turn to look, and see the two gate-crashers stood together, looking (to your private satisfaction) incredibly uncomfortable.

“Hey!” Clint calls, before you can shush him, “You guys are from Fury’s Academy?”

The blonde one, Steve, looks up, then steps closer, his expression a weird blend of guarded and friendly. “Yeah, that’s right.” Then, he frowns. “Sorry, I don’t know a lot of sign.”

Clint waves him away. “Don’t worry about it. Not many people do.”

“Forgive my ignorance,” You cut in, eyeing Steve’s sullen friend, “But what’s Fury’s Academy?”

Steve looks surprised, as though everyone knows about Fury’s Academy; his friend, James, makes a quiet huff of disbelief. You try not to bristle too obviously.

“Ah, it’s a ballet school. On the other side of town.” Pepper covers the awkward moment. “Pretty near your place, actually.”

“Well, yeah.” Steve seems to have recovered somewhat. “It’s not just ballet, they do performing arts degrees and other stuff. But Buck and I are ballet students.”

That was not what you were expecting- although, thinking about it, all that muscle had to come from somewhere.

“Alright, playtime’s over!” Wanda calls over the general chitchat. “Get back here, unless you want Clint to sit on you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Has that actually happened?”

“Yes,” You tell him, straight-faced, “More than once.” Then you stride off as Pepper and Clint dissolve into snickers behind you.

The class is always better when Wanda starts the music. Somehow you never get tired of the songs, even though you listen to them repeatedly when you’re practicing. There’s something about dancing that lends a different quality to a tune, a kind of addictive thrill. Plus, it’s a lot easier to do those squats when you’re dancing at proper speed. Wanda runs through the solo section several times before partnering up, and then she insists they practice with a space between them until she’s sure there will be no accidental punching or kicking. Or dropping, as you had teased Pepper about earlier.

The backbend is hard, you have to admit. Starting with your hand on Wanda’s opposite shoulder, you’re supposed to slide your hand down her arm in one fluid movement, gripping her wrist on the beat then dipping backwards (“Gracefully!” You can hear Wanda shouting) for the count of four, then rising up again without apparent effort. It’s actually harder practicing the move in isolation- when you’re carried forward by the beat, it’s more obvious how the lines should flow. Still, after what feels like endless repetition, Wanda is finally satisfied. Then they run through the whole routine from the top.

“Excellent!” She calls, stepping back. “Hand-in to finish?”

You instantly perk up: hand-in is one of your favourite exercises, and you step forward eagerly as the rest of the class automatically drift into a loose circle. To your consternation, you end up stood next to Steve. He clears his throat conspiratorially and looks down at you.

“Ah, what’s hand-in?”

For an instant, a small, nasty voice in your head says, doesn’t everyone know about hand-in? But you squash it down. He (and his surly friend) might have rubbed you up the wrong way, but there’s no need to be rude.

“It’s an improvisation exercise,” You tell him, “For solo dance. If you want to have a go, you put your hand into the circle, and whoever’s dancing at the time hands-off to you. Like a relay.”

From Steve’s other side comes a quiet, sarcastic voice. “And what’s the point of that?”

You gape in astonishment; but before you can say anything, Wanda starts the music, and Pepper steps into the circle. Wanda’s chosen the slow, thumping beat of Slow Hands; one of your favourites, and Pepper settles into the rhythm with a small smile. On the other side of the circle, Clint already has his hand in.

“I’ve been thinking ‘bout it all day,

And I hope you feel the same way…”

Pepper finishes the phrase then touches Clint’s palm as they trade places.

“Slow hands, like sweat dripping out of my dirty laundry…”

Clint is one of the few strong enough to do the acrobatic tricks Wanda has tried to teach you all, and the surrounding crowd whoop as he drops to the floor then springs upright. Impulsively you thrust out your hand. Unfortunately, both Anna and Dylan have got there first: you’ll have to wait your turn.

“Can’t you tell that I want you, baby?”

And finally, finally, Dylan gives your wrist a tug to signal that you have the floor. You turn your entrance into a series of spins, just to show off, then immediately drop into a wide squat and rocking your hips in a manner that Wanda had once delightedly described as sinful. What’s the point? You think, pulling up and adding in a body roll, to whoops from your classmates, the point is that it’s fun, and sexy, and it’s about letting go and having a good time. You throw in a few isolations, but mostly, you dance like you’re up on a burlesque stage. Down and dirty, teasing and brazen all at once.

“No chance that I’m leaving here without you on me,

I know, yeah I already know that there ain’t no stopping,

Your plans and those,

Slow hands.”

Somebody (Clint) wolf-whistles as the music dies away, and you drop into a graceless bow with a grin.

“Somebody went for it!” Pepper laughs, and you shrug, smiling widely.

“Wanted to have fun,” You say, perhaps a little louder than necessary, as Wanda raises her hand in the air.

“Thanks for coming tonight, everyone! I’ll see you next week. Practice, please!”

There are a chorus of thank-yous, then everyone traipses off to collect their belongings.

“Anyone doing anything exciting tonight?” Pepper asks, as she tugs her jacket back on. You shake your head.

“Vacuuming, probably. Or making soup. One of those two very thrilling options.” You sit down and pull off your trainers. “I’ll wash the socks and bring them back next week, Pepper?”

“That would be perfect. I’ll see you next week, then! Bye!” She picks up her bag and heads for the door. This is normal procedure: for some reason, you’re always the slowest to pack up your things and change back into civilian clothes. Clint gives you a mock salute.

“See you around, Y/N.”

You wave, then yell, “Are you going on another date this Friday?”

Clint nods. “Crazy golf, as per your suggestion.”

“Have fun!” You tell him, grinning widely, and he rolls his eyes before pushing through the exit.

It’s only with the other two gone that you realise that Wanda is talking to Steve and James over by the speakers. You don’t intentionally mean to listen, but they aren’t exactly talking quietly.

“-I have several people in need of partners,” Wanda’s saying. “Particularly in my intermediate class, you might feel more comfortable there-”

“Sorry,” Steve says, and his reflection in the mirror really does look apologetic, “But Wednesdays are the only day we can do.”

“Well…” Wanda appears to be thinking hard. “I think Dylan’s going back to the states in two weeks, so Anna will be without a partner. And Y/N could dance with one of you.”

Your heart drops in horror. Partnered with the condescending blonde or the sulky model? No, no, no! You grab your bag and walk, as quickly and quietly as possible, to the exit. Wanda’s voice fades as the door swings shut behind you.

You know that Wanda is only partnering you because they don’t have any more leads, but it still stings a bit that she’s offering you up to somebody else. There’s a reason you enjoy partner work so much: because Wanda is a good partner. Obviously. She’s the teacher. You stride across the lobby, resolving to put it behind you, then stop dead in your tracks. Because this day couldn’t get any better.

Five minutes later, and the rain is still pouring down. You sit on the trestle table that serves as a registration desk for the beginner and intermediate classes and watch the water splashing on the pavement. You hadn’t exactly been fibbing when you told Pepper you could get a bus, but the bus-stop is a ten-minute walk in the wrong direction, and home is only a twenty-minute walk as it is. Surely the rain can’t last forever.

Behind you, the studio door opens and closes, and your shoulders tense instinctively.

“Oh, great. When’s the next bus, Buck?”

You keep your eyes fixed on the window.

“Not ‘til nine thirty. What’s the matter, Stevie, scared of a bit of rain?”

“That,” Steve says, crossing to the window and peering out, “Is a biblical flood. But OK, if you want to go out and get drowned-”

“Steve,” Despite your irritation, you can hear the eye-roll implicit in the word, “We have an umbrella.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs, but his expression is fond, “Let’s go out into the river- oh, sorry, the street.” He turns back, and his gaze fixes on you. “Excuse me? Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

You sit up a little straighter, feeling guarded. “It’s Y/N.”

Steve nods, maybe to show that he’s got it. “Didn’t- your friend-”

“Pepper,” You help him out reluctantly, suddenly realising what he’s going to say with a sinking sensation in your stomach.

“Pepper, didn’t she say you lived near the Academy? Do you want to walk with us?”

“I don’t actually know,” You answer, carefully, “Where is the Academy?”

“Blackhill Road,” James answers, to your surprise. Which is actually only two streets away from you. Internally, you give a deep, heartfelt sigh. Then you get to your feet.

“Sure. Why not.”

“Alright then.” Steve doesn’t seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm. “Umbrella up, Buck!”

“Sorry,” You say, reluctantly going over to stand beside them, “Buck?”

James’ expression shifts one degree warmer. “Bucky. It’s what my friends call me.”

“Guess I’d better call you James, then.” As soon as the words pop out, you suck your lips over your teeth in shock. You can’t believe you’ve just said that.

James- Bucky- raises his eyebrows. You’d almost go so far as to say he looked mildly amused. Steve certainly seems to be holding back a laugh.

“Well,” You say, attempting to salvage some dignity, “I barely know you. And you can’t expect to insult my dance style and have me immediately enjoy your company.” Your voice is taut with irritation and forced humour. “What don’t you like about commercial dance, anyway? In fact,” An even more important question occurs to you, “If you hate it so much, why are you here in the first place?”

“I personally don’t hate it,” Steve says, mildly, holding the door open. “But we took a module that requires twelve hours of broadening our dance experience.”

“Ah,” You say, stepping outside, “You were forced here. That makes a lot more sense.”

Behind you, there’s the rustle of an umbrella opening. Steve takes the handle and James puts himself on the other side of his friend. You can’t say you’re disappointed. Like an uncomfortable three-legged race, you begin to walk carefully down the pavement.

“It’s more that there’s no depth to it,” James says, after a while, raising his voice over the sound of the rain and cars swooshing past. It’s nearly dark, even though summer is around the corner.

For a moment, you’re speechless. Then you recover your voice, even if it nearly cracks with incredulity. “No depth.”

“You heard me.” It sounds like there might be smile behind those words, but you can’t see. You can, however, see Steve raising his eyes to the sky.

“And I suppose ballet has depth?” You fire back. “Because it’s all about discipline and tragedy?”

Steve snorts. “She has a point, Buck.” Then he bobbles to one side as James presumably shoves him. You squeak and dodge a large puddle.

“Think carefully about who’s side you’re on, Stevie. I’m the one with the power to put a spider in your bed.”

Steve shudders, and, despite yourself, you laugh.

“You’re roommates?”

“For my sins,” James answers, like he can’t help himself. Then he gets shoved into a puddle.

“I think Steve is probably the one suffering,” You say, mildly, “If he has to live with a dance hipster.”

“Dance hipster?”

You throw his own reply back at him. “You heard me.”

A lorry comes charging down the road and all three of you flinch away from the spray of water it’s throwing up from its wheels.

“Anyway,” You continue, “There is depth to commercial dancing. It’s about having fun, and creating a spectacle. And take Stay! That’s a deep song right there.”

“The song we were dancing to earlier?” James sounds so incredibly sceptical that you have to hold back a laugh.

“Yes! It’s about nostalgia for a lost youth and craving for love that no longer exists.”

Even Steve now looks sceptical. “Seriously?”

You sing the lyrics softly. “Waiting for the time to pass you by, hope the winds of change will change your mind… All you have to do is stay, a minute, just take your time, the clock is ticking, so stay…” You break off. “See? If that were sung half-time by a gentle voice and a ukulele it would be playing in every Starbucks before the month was out. And, finally,” You say, with some feeling, “Something doesn’t have to be deep to be good.”

Neither James nor Steve can come up with a rebuttal, and you can’t help but feel smug.

“So, what do you do at ballet school?” You ask, deciding to quit the previous topic of conversation whilst you’re winning. “Dance from dawn ‘til dusk?”

“No,” James answers, his voice dry, “We have stretching classes.”

“But apart from that, you’re dancing all the time,” You say, with a touch of disbelieving humour.

“Well, there’s our compulsory modules,” Steve says, and you nod.

“Like the one that’s forced you here tonight.”

Steve inclines his head. “We have a couple of others- analysis, choreography, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds interesting.”

James snorts. “Are you just saying that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “No. Unlike some, I don’t have ridiculous prejudices against entire genres.” Which is a damn-good comeback, though you say so yourself. The moment is slightly ruined, however, by you stepping into a puddle that sloshes over the top of your shoes. “God- gosh-darn it!”

“Gosh-darn it?” There’s entirely too much teasing in Steve’s tone. You glare at the floor.

“My colleagues have bet me that I can’t stop swearing for a whole month. It’s much harder than I thought it would be.”

To your surprise, both Steve and James laugh.

“Where do you work?” Steve asks.

“The university library. I’m always telling people it’s not as boring as it sounds.”

In fact, you adore your job at the library, but you always end up gushing if you open up about it. However, casual conversation about that very topic is what carries you and Steve (and occasionally James chipping in) all the way back to the turn-off for your street.

“This is where I leave you,” You say, glancing grimly out from under the umbrella at the rain still insistently falling. “Thanks for sharing your umbrella, I guess?”

Steve nods politely. “Sure you don’t want us to walk you to your door?”

It’s your turn to snort. “Do you they teach you 1950s manners in that Academy? Thanks for the offer, but I’m OK. It’s literally just down this road.” You know it’s probably ridiculous, but the idea of people you’ve just met knowing exactly where you live is also a little bit creepy. Steve smiles but accepts your refusal.

“OK, if you say so. We’ll see you next week?”

You duck out from under the umbrella and make a dash up the pavement.

“See you next week!”

Behind you, you can hear them laughing.

AN: This was long. Also, there are a handful of people who liked the introduction then followed me, so I took the liberty of assuming you enjoyed the story and added you to the tag list. If it turns out to be not to your taste, then just drop me a message and I’ll remove you :) Anyways thank you so? Much? for the response to the introduction! And I hope you enjoy this part!

P.S. This is the first time I’ve written a partially deaf character, so if I get something wrong or you feel something is offensive, please please let me know so I can fix it <3

Tag list: @debzybrazy @underneath-the-nightsky @blonde0n

Part 2

Fan Fiction Quotes 2017: (part 2)

<p>“Yeah, real handsome. All the dolls will be swooning.” Bucky winked, and it was easy as anything to reply, “There’s only one doll whose swoon I want, sweetheart”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/3588789?view_adult=true”>[X]</a><i>goofy and fun, I like it </i>

</br>“younger man hunched in a similar manner over his book, sitting crosslegged on Steve’s bed. Steve remembered glancing up from his sketch of something unimportant at the same time as Bucky looked up, and their eyes met, and they leaned across the bed toward each other. When they kissed, their bodies formed an arch over the bedspread, like the ceiling of a cathedral. Then they went back to what they’d been doing”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/3588789?view_adult=true ”>[X]</a><i>nice imagery </i></p>

<p>“Sometimes, even with all of the positive developments - or maybe partly because of them, who knows - it all gets to be a bit much for Steve, which makes him feel guilty, because it’s not like he’s the one who’s working through seven decades of manipulation and brutality”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2741438 ”>[X]</a><i>relatable, the “why should I be the stressed one?”</i>(note: talking heads song this fic, Bruce)

</br>“such as interrupting one of Tony’s endless attempts to impress him with Midgardian science by saying, “Truly a valiant effort, my friend” and patting Tony on the head), ”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2741438 ”>[X]</a><i>amusing, I bet Tony has an opinion on that, not sure what though </i>

</br>[Steve]“Are you judging me right now?”

</br>[Sam]“Not at the moment, no. But I reserve the right to do so at a later date, depending on what your dumb ass comes up with next"

</br>[Steve]“Fair enough”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2741438 ”>[X]</a><i>comments</i></p>

<p>“Anytime Bucky gets in the elevator alone, JARVIS talks to him the whole time.”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/2508875”>[X]</a><i>awww</i></p>

<p>“ would wrinkle his nose, not because of the smell as much as what the smell meant”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2224137?view_adult=true ”>[X]</a><i>personal reasons: yeah I don’t like the smell but I’d never thought about it before until I learned of the part it played between my parents…</i>I like this fic center</p>

<p>“Because I don’t understand,” he admits at last. “You’re–good. Everything about you is good. If anyone can see the truth about me, it should be you. I want to understand what you see in me so that I can try to be good again too” It feels ridiculous, having said the words aloud. <a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/1659689 ”>[X]</a><i>same paragraph as the next quote </i>

</br>“He has a fleeting half-thought about what it would be like to fling himself off the rooftop, but he knows he never actually will.”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/1659689 ”>[X]</a><i>…not actually suicidal?</i></p>

<p>“Guilt or croutons, Steve, those are your choices. You’ll just have to live with it.”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/801945 ”>[X]</a><i>I feel you Steve </i></p>

<p>“The Winter Soldier reads each and every label carefully, deciding between hydrocodone and acetaminophen and naproxen sodium.”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/3566312”>[X]</a><i>*whine* the first one is more heavy duty than the other two (Tylenol and Aleeve)</i></p>

<p>“He could simply read the title off the book, but he loves the way Bucky’s eyes light up when he gets to tell Steve about whatever he’s reading.”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/892502”>[X]</a><i>this is sweet, and the answer is amusing</i>

</br>“Figures. You love the man who sings about the little people. That’s so you.”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/892502 ”>[X]</a><i>I like the music section that follows this quote… </i></p>

<p>“He lets it sit on his tongue, imagines he can feel it dissolve into fats and proteins, weaving together to build muscle or stoking the fires of his mitochondria, warming him.”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/2832446”>[X]</a><i>meditative idea??</i></p>

<p>“A good spy never let on that his primary observations about the human character came from Disney films”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/4181880”>[X]</a><i>lol</i>

</br>“The human version of toast that lands butter side down, every time,”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4181880 ”>[X]</a><i>wow, what a way to describe Clint Barton!</i></p>

<p>“He craves [human closeness], Bucky knows, reveres it so much that he’ll never take it for granted, that he rarely dares to ask for it”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2364425 ”>[X]</a><i>relatable</i></p>

<p>“Genuine kicker of all Nazi ass, and he blushed like a schoolgirl. Dork.”<a href =“ http://archiveofourown.org/works/3122099”>[X]</a><i>comments</i></p>

<p>“He’s not so stupid he’ll ignore the fact that when Steven "My Blood Group is Apple Pie” Rogers threatens to end you, he means it literally<i> literally.</i>“<a href =” http://archiveofourown.org/works/3237080“>[X]</a><i>not actually from the fic rec but this one inspired one on the fic rec…</i>

</br>"hobo-sex-kitten ”<a href =“http://archiveofourown.org/works/3237080 ”>[X]</a><i>uhm, where else can that even be applied. Tony narration can be unique </i></p>

<p>“‘I’m Bucky Barnes.’ He meets him halfway for a second. ‘And I take my own orders.’”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2124084”>[X]</a><i>this line just stuck me  </i></p>

<p>“Explain how necking with an estranged assassin is a favor,” Bucky replies, miffed.“<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2156913”>[X]</a><i>this fic, the story game?  </i></p>

<p>“Ah, shit, you came in through the window didn’t you?”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4176732”>[X]</a><i>made me laugh </i></p>

<p>“Being Iron Man doesn’t make his brain shut up, exactly, but it tunes out the shit that doesn’t matter better than anything else he’s tried, and he’s tried everything.)”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/492885”>[X]</a><i>makes me think about my boyfriend explaining how SCA fighting or shooting at a gun range are for him. </i></p>

</br>*pause on the fic rec, I’ll get back to reading it later

<p>“Look man, all I’m saying is that for years you gave me someone to look up to for my entire life. ….You gave me someone to look to when I was feeling lost. I know that I’m nothing special, but you seem pretty lost right now. Figured you needed a little push, just like you used to give me.”<a href=“https://unclesteeb.tumblr.com/post/159553028886/steve-and-violet-save-the-day-and-then-bucky”>[X]</a><i>Steve and Violet pt5, Tumblr fic </i></p>

<p>“More than once, James has ended up on the couch with Sam playing with his hair with a nature documentary on mute. He does the narration. Orcas are <i>assholes</i>”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/8206688/chapters/18802994?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_78194408”>[X]</a><i>found because of unclesteeb.tumblr.com </i></p>

<p>“When Steve thinks about Sam his heart does this funny thing where it feels like it’s overrun with kittens and puppies. Everything’s tiny patters of fluffy feet and pastel sugar plums made of candy. ”<a href=“https://unclesteeb.tumblr.com/post/154535855440/hooray-the-day-is-here-heres-my-all-caps”>[X]</a><i>again, unclesteeb  </i></p>

<p>“It’s always the middle of winter, Jimmy never dreams of spring, no matter that his entire life is about being reborn, again and again -”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/1818250”>[X]</a><i>nice symbolism, and I’m not even a literary nerd. Also, from the fic rec from before… </i></p>

<p>“It’s like he puts out some super pheromone that makes one believe in truth, goodness, and harebrained schemes.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/7584626”>[ch1]</a><i>I read the original story previously because of a fan art </i>

</br>“Confirm. Green thing Hulk is tough and focused. And it’s so big that it draws attention away from Steve”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/7584626”>[ch1]</a><i>amusing,particularly Steve’s reaction :) </i>

</br>“Building is a mission-assist for everyone.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/7584626”>[X]</a><i>awww/lol </i>

</br>“One day at a time, Sam says, unless it takes one minute at a time, and then you do that.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/7822196”>[ch7]</a><i>good advice from Sam, of course  </i>

</br>Just all of chapter 8!

</br>“It’s rude to assign gender without asking, Stark.”<a href=“https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/7896069”>[ch9]</a><i>response to Tony arbitrarily tendering one of his bots (admittedly he does it to annoy Tony but…) </i></br>“Barnes receives a majestic eyeroll, worthy of bald eagles and amber waves of grain.”<a href=“https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/8062296”>[ch11]</a><i>amusing </i>

</br>“Assists in your mission to live a good human life”<a href=“https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456710/chapters/8062296”>[ch11]</a><i>awww! Cuteness, I love this AU at Halloween time! </i></p>

<p>“and sits crammed into the corners of sofas, staring out.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4806749?view_adult=true”>[X]</a><i>same Series as previous set. I relate. Is it “a desire for human hugs” (blame Frozen for the phrasing)</i>

</br>“America’s mighty chin of stubbornness juts out like Plymouth Rock.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4806749?view_adult=true”>[X]</a><i>lol </i></br>“Captain Fret wearing his worried expression”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4806749?view_adult=true”>[X]</a><i>yup </i></p>

<p>“All of the Bucky/Banner introductions, throughout the universes, have generally gone as well as two introverted weapons of mass destruction meeting could go.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/7363342/chapters/22817636”>[ch6]</a><i>was inspired by the last one </i></p>

<p>“I get lost in that feeling. Sometimes I need to rehash everything to get it all back in order in my head.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2539586”>[X]</a><i>relatable I think </i>from <a href=“http://oflittleuse.tumblr.com/post/101423922612/happy-halloween-to-celebrate-here-is-a-selection”>this fic rec</a></p>

<p>“I know that we– well, I –the last few times we’ve tried to, um, God why can’t I just say this out loud?”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2676779/chapters/5986280”>[X]</a><i>because your normal Bucky. A lot of people feel that way, we shouldn’t have to but it’s not weird to! (Mini soap box) </i></p>

<p>“He’d found not one, but two, families in his long lifetime. People he cared about not because he had to, not because they shared any blood ties, but because they had come into his life when he felt like he had nothing else, and made it better.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2540360”>[X]</a><i>the importance of any type of family! </i></p>

<p>“Steve quirked an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips in his best ‘Captain America does not approve of your sass’ pose.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2490143/chapters/5526164”>[ch1]</a><i>reminds me of doing the same with my boyfriend. </i>

</br>“It’s just- I know it doesn’t look like much but we found it together. Yeah, it’s kind of old and beat up, and it’s little and broken but it’s still good. Yeah, still good.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2490143/chapters/5538761”>[ch2]</a><i>yes, that probably does sound familiar! Disney!</i></p>

<p>“The Moon is a protector, Bucky. He’s bruised.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2513627>[X]</a><i>I’m not even sure what to think of this AU. I found it from ‘Brenda’s under appreciated fics’ rec, linked in one of 2017’s fan fic posts</i></p>

<p>"Shit,” he breathes. “When did you get so good at flirting?”

</br>

Steve gives his fingers a squeeze, remembering a similar look on Peggy’s face once upon a time, when he stood in front of her with a broken transponder in his hand.

</br>

“When I found someone worth flirting with.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2741438”>[X]</a><i>awww, smile  </i></p>

<p>“not his tiny blond ball of fury (whom he now remembers is a large blond ball of righteous fury),”<a href=“https://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/768562.html”>[post]</a><i>from the linked post, inspired this <a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4789796”>fic</a></i></p>

<p>“[Being surly to Captain America] It’s like being nasty to Superman. He could do it, but he’d just feel like shit afterwards. It’s not an experience he’s eager to repeat.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/4347650”>[X]</a><i>amusing, means he’s done that before…  </i></p>

<p>“"Yes, Pepper,” they chorus like the good little schoolboys they might have been, once upon a time"<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2732783”>[X]</a><i>lol </i></p>

<p>“The next time he visited the pediatric ward at New York-Presbyterian, he brought a ton of socks and some puffy paint, so the kids could paint their own. The project was a hit with parents and internet knitters alike.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2358854”>[X]</a><i>awww!! </i>

</br>“Avengers Stitch and Bitch. ”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2358854”>[X]</a><i>comments </i></p>

<p>“he still has bad days where he sits in the dark by himself because the thought of being around anyone–even Steve–is like jackhammers in his skull and shattered glass under his skin. ”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2085093”>[X]</a><i>not nearly that bad for me, but I kinda get that </i>

</br>“refrigerator with a magnet that looks like his shield.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/2085093”>[X]</a><i>cute. Near the end. </i></p>

<p>“the one who doesn’t laugh as much or as loud as he used to, but whose eyes still crinkle in genuine humor at stupid puns and in wonder at some of the marvels of this modern age.”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/1342801”>[X]</a><i>quiet emotion, not a lack of sense of humor  </i></p>

<p>“This whole talking about our feelings like adults thing is hard. It made me hungry again. Didn’t it make you hungry again?”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/860666”>[X]</a><i>amusing, don’t love the pairing 'cause I only know one of them and I really like him with Steve - though I’ve liked others  </i></p>

<p>“he doesn’t have anything left but a broken heart and some sourdough starter”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/460793”>[X]</a><i>I’ve now seen a fair amount of Great British Baking Show </i>

</br>“ (Sure, the therapy sessions and the anti-anxiety drugs are helping too, but Steve’s always been a big believer in the efficacy of hard work and good food for making a person feel better after their world’s been turned upside down, and the bakery provides both in spades.)”<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/460793”>[X]</a><i>any combination of methods that helps  </i></p>

forty-five

Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? Most definitely.

Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? Yes.

What is your favorite episode of True Life, if you have one at all? I don't think that I ever had a favorite.

Have you ever experienced something paranormal? Kind of?

What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? I have no idea.

Best field trip experience? I loved them all, really.

Have you ever been to New York City? A few times.

If so, is it all its cracked up to be? No, I am not a city girl.

What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Not too much.

Have you ever had a group project and one of your partners bailed on you? Not really.

What’s your worst traveling experience? Okay, so...I went to Puerto Rico with my brother on a trip for their company and on the way home we have a connecting flight from Philidelphia to NH...Well we got to Philly but our other flight was cancelled. So there a group of us (at least 40+) And we're trying how to figure out how to get us all back home. So they company paid to have a coach bus drive us through the night back to NH. So it was a 5+ hour plane right, then an 8 hour bus ride to the airport here in NH then another 1.5 hour drive home. It was terrible!

Sims 1, 2, or 3? Why? I've never played any of them.

Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? Neither.

Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? I never really gave teachers a hard time.

Best muffin you’ve ever had? I have no idea.

Have you ever taken a woodshop class? Yes, in junior high.

If so, was it required? In 7th ant 8th grade we had to take VEX classes. It was broken up into three sections each year and we didn't really get to pick, they assigned them to us, but I actually liked that class. I still have the sign I made.

How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? Entirely too much.

What area of math are you best at? Worst? .

How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It's nice, but not that important.

What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? I don't think that I've ever seen anything strange in my yard.

Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? I mean...I don't really know. I guess, because I certainly believe in bad luck.

How often do you “half-ass” things (put little effort in)? It depends.

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? It depends on the person.

Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? Most likely in college.

How reliable is your internet connection? Usually good.

Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? Probably.

What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? People watching me.

What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? All night.

If you don’t have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? I do have glasses.

If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn’t need them anymore? I use them when I need them and I don't mind them.

How many vegetarians do you know? I have no idea.

Have you ever considered going to art school? Meh.

Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? .

What is the worst thunderstorm you’ve experienced? The one when I was really little that was followed by a tornado.

How quickly can you write an essay? I guess it depends if I have to do a lot of research. It usually takes awhile.

Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? No.

Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No.

If you have a job, who is your least favorite coworker/manager? It's just my dad, uncle and I.

Favorite episode of Spongebob? I don't have one.

Do you have any silly/odd emotional connections to anything/anyone? I'm sure I do.

What bug frightens you most? They're just gross.

Are your parents supportive of you? Very.

How often do you take the train to go places? Never.

Do you play with your phone in awkward situations? Sometimes.

Have you ever participated in a mock trial, or a real trial? In high school I believe.

Do you hate your weight? Yes.

Have you ever struggled with a mental illness? Yes.

Do you prefer listening to music or watching movies while you blog? Either or.

Serious question, peanut butter or Nutella? It depends what I'm eating.

Have you ever stepped on a snail? Nope.

Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? Mashed.

Do you prefer ankle socks over regular socks? Yes.

Last movie you’ve seen in theaters? Only the Brave, last night actually. So good.

Would you ever go backpacking across any country? Nah. I would rather drive.

Would you prefer to travel around the world by yourself or with a friend? With a friend.

Do you like breadsticks? Yes.

Do you usually wear shorts around your house all year long? That depends on if I'm cold or not.

What state were you born in? New Hampshire.

Have you ever had a nose bleed? Never.

How far away do you live from your birthplace? 10-15 minutes.

Do you have a weak stomach? Mehh, not really.

Do you know anybody who has been diagnosed with cancer? Yes.

Would you ever meet someone in person that you met online? I don't know.

Have you ever had to take care of an intoxicated person? Yes.

What is so appealing about ‘Twilight’? I'm not sure.

Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer? No.

Do you *really* like donuts? I like them all right.

Do you think Disney World could ever get old? I've never been.

If you could, would you hookup with the last person you texted? No.

What are your favorite things to spend money on? Clothes.

Will you talk to the person you like on the phone tonight? Honestly, I'm fairly certain we'll never talk again.

What do you usually order on a pizza? Just cheese or pinapple

Do you and your boyfriend/girlfriend fight a lot? .

Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Puppy, for sure.

How old will you be on your next birthday? 27.

What color are your underwear? Blue.

Do you know anyone who has a hearing deficit? Yes.

What is the average number of customers that stop by where you work? Nobody stops by unless they're paying a bill which is rare.

Do you know exactly what a physician is? Would you ever want to be one? I do. No.

What are your methods to remind yourself of something important? Making a list.

What are your opinions on fake sugar? Do you use it? Why or why not? I use real sugar. I don't care.

Would you ever want to study sociology? Why or why not? No. It isn't interesting to me.

If you had to have a porch for your house, what colour would it be? Brown?

What makes a person physically beautiful to you? I don't really know how to answer that beacuse I don't know what I'm necessarily attracted to.

Would you miss winter if it never came back? Why or why not? I mean I guess I would miss it some. Winter is by far my least favorite season because it's always so dark and I hate being cold.

Do you notice a pattern with people who were born as the middle child? I've never really paid that much attention to the traits of a middle child.

Did you ever play around a hydrant when you were younger? Probably, I grew up around the fire service.

Does bad weather ruin your day? Why or why not? It can definitely throw my mood off, but I guess it all depends.

What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I just never wanted to be one.

When you read 'bass’ just now, was it read like the fish or the instrument? Fish.

If you wear them, what is the average length of skirts you wear? Usually above the knee, but I do have a maxi.

Do you spell it like 'cheque’ or 'check’? Also, do you even use them? Check, yes.

What would you like a pint of right now? It could be anything. I'm not thirsty.

What is one thing that the Titanic has taught you? THE DOOR WAS BIG ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF YOU, ROSE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT. But really, like, don't be so arrogant to believe that you are indestructable. Anything can be destroyed. ^^I like her answer.

Are you avoiding correspondence with anyone you actually like? If so, why? Yes, because it wouldn't matter what I said, it wouldn't change anything.

Do you think snowboarding is as easy as it looks? Nope.

Out of all the cancers, which one do you think needs to find a cure first? Uh, all of them...?

When I say fender, you say… Bender.

If the opposite sex wore a lot of jewelry, what would be your impression? No, that would be weird.

When I say cricket, do you picture the insect or the sport first? Insect.

If you were ever to be famous, how would you want your signature to look? In bunker gear, hahaha.

What are two things you usually do with ice? Put it in a drink.

Was there ever a workshop in your middle school? If so, what were they? No.

What do you think of people who can tie cherry stems with their tongues? I've done it before.

Speaking of tongues, did you ever consider getting your tongue pierced? Not seriously.

If you had to only use either shampoo or conditioner, which would it be? Shampoo.

What are your general afterthoughts when you’ve finished a book? It depends on the book.

Does your mouse have a cord? Which do you prefer, cord or cordless? No, I prefer wireless....except for the fact that I'm always misplacing it.